


never let a wound ruin me

by collegefangirl3791, skywalking-across-the-galaxy (BadWolfGirl01)



Series: these battle scars [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling, Dancing, Depression, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Guilt, Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Mind Control, Mortis (Star Wars), Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Self-Hatred, Survivor Guilt, The Dark Side of the Force, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, clone culture, i swear idk where tf the son came from he just POOF showed up yall, poor communication, post-Zygerria, the babies deserve the best, they're just really bad at everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collegefangirl3791/pseuds/collegefangirl3791, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl01/pseuds/skywalking-across-the-galaxy
Summary: His men tell each other they can’t believe how strong Rex is, how easily he seems to fall back into his accustomed role. (Jesse thinks it’s hilarious how annoyed Rex is that General Skywalker won’t let him on any missions.)Rex can march and give commands and watch his men run drills and cover up his scars with his armor, and it’s all fine. None of them know about the training simulations he runs on nights and afternoons when he has time to himself, trying to relearn how not to freeze and panic at the prospect of a fight. Only Ahsoka knows about the nightmares that (more often than not) keep him from sleeping. And he barely even admits to himself that some days he feels like a coward, like he can't care about anyone but himself, like he just has to survive even though he should be safe.Rex sometimes thinks he’s left some vital part of himself to rot on Kadavo, and he doesn’t know how to get it back. The only times he feels anything like he used to are with Ahsoka and his men, and sometimes not even then.He doesn’t even know what’s wrong with him, and that scares him.[or: a recovery fic after Zygerria and Kadavo]





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That Zygerrian arc fic got so intense we decided we really needed proper attention given to the aftermath. This recovery fic is by no means exhaustive but it covers some important stuff while giving us fluff and a happy ending before we move on to our next fic. (Yes there's more, can you believe it?)
> 
> This story ran away with us a bit too, but we think the result is good - hope you enjoy!

Captain Rex is walking so well these days he almost forgets it was ever a challenge. The medics and the Jedi healers have fixed the wounds so that there’s nothing left but scars and, sometimes, twinges of pain from muscles that haven’t quite recovered yet. The regulation blacks cover up the myriad of ropey new scars, and his armor affords him protection he’d often missed in the pits of Kadavo. He walks down hallways and people, even the Jedi, straighten, give him deferential nods.

The medics say good things about his recovery, say he’s up and about much faster than they would have expected. (They try to get him to rest more anyway, say it would be wiser. He brushes them off.) General Skywalker adamantly refuses to let him do anything more strenuous with his battalion than inspections and overseeing drills - and those things Rex does with all his customary discipline and precision, with a firm tone and a straight spine and just enough humor to make it less tedious.

His men tell each other they can’t believe how _strong_ Rex is, how easily he seems to fall back into his accustomed role. (Jesse thinks it’s hilarious how annoyed Rex is that General Skywalker won’t let him on any missions.)

Rex can march and give commands and watch his men run drills and cover up his scars with his armor, and it’s all _fine_ . None of them know about the training simulations he runs on nights and afternoons when he has time to himself, trying to relearn how not to freeze and panic at the prospect of a fight. Only Ahsoka knows about the nightmares that (more often than not) keep him from sleeping. And he barely even admits to himself that some days he feels like a coward, like he can't care about anyone but himself, like he just has to _survive_ even though he should be safe.

Rex sometimes thinks he’s left some vital part of himself to rot on Kadavo, and he doesn’t know how to get it back. The only times he feels anything like he used to are with Ahsoka and his men, and sometimes not even then.

He doesn’t even know what’s _wrong with him,_ and that scares him.

~~~

The first thing Ahsoka had done when she'd been released from the Temple was find a new dress.

Her new one is dark brown leather, sleeveless, with a high collar and a closed back to hide the scars. There's nothing she can do about the awful scarred bands around her headtails and her montrals, but at least those scars are less obviously from a whip or a collar.

Anakin has yet to comment on the change, although she _knows_ he's noticed; he's also not mentioned the way she still wakes multiple times a night from awful nightmares. She hasn't yet told her Master about how the only time she can get any nightmare-free sleep is on those nights when she gives in to her exhaustion and the ache in her heart and slips into Rex’s room to sleep with him.

Anakin still won't let her go on any missions, even though she's practically _begged_ him; probably a good thing, she decides eventually, especially since every time she ignites her sabers she sees herself standing over Agruss, ready to kill him in cold blood, the Dark Side roaring through her.

(She spends _hours_ in the shipboard training salle, running through her forms until she's nearly collapsing from exhaustion. Sometimes, Rex trains with her. She thinks she's the only one who knows how he pushes himself through simulation after simulation, trying to overcome the battle freeze he's never struggled with before.)

She's tired of this.

Tired of feeling like she's one wrong move away from shattering; of feeling like she's lost some integral part of herself in the mines of Kadavo.

She's _tired_ of flinching every time one of her men moves too fast.

She wishes she could just go back to the padawan she'd been before--but how, when she can still hear the seductive whisper of the Dark Side in her thoughts at night?

~~~

It’s one of the _numb_ days, when Rex wakes up in a fog and has to stick to the bare minimum of interaction and work. General Skywalker wants him to help go through the armory, so he spends all morning on autopilot, taking stock of their blasters and grenades and trying to respond well enough to Fives’ jokes that his men don’t ask any questions. It’s tedious work, and doesn’t require much thought, and that leaves him space to think about other things - things he’d much rather just ignore.

He thinks his General can sense it a little when the memories start to get too much, when he really loses focus and starts drowning in all the _screaming_ and the pain and the Zygerrian’s smiles, because Anakin pulls him aside when they’re about halfway done and tells him he should go “make sure Ahsoka’s doing alright.” Rex pulls himself together as best he can, fits his helmet on, and leaves the armory.

He knows where Ahsoka will be right now; he can feel her presence at the back of his mind, the shape of her thoughts and emotions. She’s in the training salle again - she goes there often, these days, to practice with her sabers.

Before Kadavo, Rex and the other clones had mostly stayed away from the _Resolute’s_ salle; that part of the ship was understood to be for General Skywalker and Commander Tano, and they didn’t really belong there. But lately Rex has trained in the salle himself with Ahsoka, and sometimes he wonders why he and his men have so often drawn such sharp lines between themselves and the Jedi. It doesn’t matter that much, and it isn’t like Anakin or Ahsoka care about those boundaries anyway.

When he walks into the salle, Ahsoka doesn’t stop her forms right away. He lets himself be more mindful of their bond, senses she’s already tired, so she’s probably been training for a while. Even just being this close to her helps clear some of the fog out of his thoughts so he can _focus._ He reaches out with a pulse of warmth, a sort of greeting that he’s taken to using when talking wouldn’t be best, or when they don’t feel safe talking, or when there are too many other people around.

~~~

Ahsoka jumps and flips through the air, slashing at an invisible enemy as she finishes the form. She lands poised on the balls of her feet, sabers extended, holds the position for a long moment, sends warmth back at Rex. _Hey, Rexter._

It's one of the bad days; she's been in the salle all morning, trying to purge herself of the memories and the pain and the constant seduction of the Darkness hiding inside her. She's a bit surprised Anakin hasn't sent anyone to check on her yet. It's a habit he's gotten into, given how much time she spends training--sending troopers to make sure she's not like, falling over or anything.

 _You here for Anakin?_ Ahsoka asks, dropping out of the form and shutting her sabers off, clipping them to her belt.

She can tell by the way his thoughts feel, all tangled with the emotions and images he usually keeps locked up tightly in a box, that today is a bad day for him, too; one of the numb, foggy days when thinking seems impossible and even _breathing_ takes almost more effort than it's worth. She has those days, too, even though she tries to hide them. (Rex knows, though. Those are the days she only feels _safe_ when she's curled up in his arms. The days when she's desperate for four familiar walls surrounding her, protecting her, reassuring her no one can sneak up behind her. The days when she wakes up _screaming,_ even with Rex holding her mind close.)

She sends him a wave of love and comfort.

~~~

Rex crosses over to her, puts his arms around her and pulls her against his chest. _He_ **_thinks_ ** _I'm here for him_.

Ahsoka feels amused, and she squeezes him tight for a second before leaning back a bit, meeting his eyes. She always _knows_ what's going on with him, and it's probably just the bond but he's still not used to it. “He's impossible,” she grumbles, and Rex snorts softly, shaking his head.

“He's trying to help.” Today he thinks it's mostly for his own sake Anakin sent him after Ahsoka, and he's not going to pretend he isn't grateful.

As always, holding Ahsoka is grounding, makes him feel a little more certain. He rubs circles on her upper back, tries not to think about all the scars she's hiding with her new clothes.

He feels her easing through his mind like she's trying to figure out where he is today, and he locks down some of the memories as best he can; just because he's been seeing them on a loop all day doesn't mean she should have to.

_Ahsoka is screaming and they won't let him get to her and however hard he tries they just keep hurting her and he's helpless._

“I should be able to figure this out,” Rex says, hesitant. “It's been long enough, I should- I don't know.” He shouldn't still feel like fighting is too dangerous, shouldn't still struggle not to panic when Fives claps him on the shoulder to tell him some anecdote he's learned that day, shouldn't still _drift_ so much. At least nightmares have always been normal for him; what's a few more?

(He doesn't actually believe that but he can at least still sleep most nights so what does it matter anyway.)

~~~

Ahsoka soothes the memories as best she can, helping him tuck them away where he won't have to relive them so much. “Neither do I,” she admits quietly, resting her hands on his shoulders and dropping her gaze to stare at his chest. “I wish I knew how to _fix_ this,” and she looks up at him again, meets his gaze.

She catches the stray thought about nightmares; she's taught him more shielding, of course (there was little else to do in those first few days in the Temple), but in close proximity it's nearly impossible to hide surface thoughts. (Which just proves that this bond is deeper than a training bond, and she has to wonder how it formed. She'd done nothing _consciously,_ but perhaps unconsciously?) _Why don't you come stay with me?_ she asks silently. _You_ **_know_ ** _it helps the nightmares._

Rex just shakes his head. _I can handle it on my own, Soka._ But the way he clutches her close to him says otherwise--not that she'll press the matter, though.

Instead, she smiles up at him, says, “I'm glad you're here,” and stands on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

(That's another of the changes wrought by Kadavo, and it's the only _good_ one; after finally realizing and admitting their feelings for each other, they'd slipped into a sort of relationship she really doesn't know how to define. It's kept secret, by nature, due to the numerous rules--including the Jedi Code--that forbid it, but that's alright, in a way. Rex is an intensely private person and she's not sure she can broadcast to people how much she _cares,_ not after having her very care turned against her as a weapon.)

 _I love you, you know,_ she tells him softly, showing him the depth of her feelings. So maybe she tells him a little more often than strictly necessary, but she can't seem to _stop._ Not after how close they'd come to losing each other. She doesn't want him to have any doubts about how she feels, not after the distance caused by miscommunication after Umbara.

~~~

Rex hums a little in response, thankful for the warm wash of affection that rushes through his thoughts. _I love you too._ This is one thing he doesn't regret, his closeness with Ahsoka. Never mind that it all has to be a secret - he's just glad he has her. Sometimes it feels just _right_ , and he can't believe she loves him and it's exactly what he's wanted for a long time.

But sometimes (and today is a bit like this) he feels like he's moments away from losing her, like someone will _know_ and take her from him and hurt her again. Those times he remembers her screaming and begging and huddled in his arms on Kadavo, and it makes him nauseous, the fear that it could happen again. Those nights he can't sleep, not unless she comes in and curls up with him. Those nights he runs simulations until everyone else wakes up.

He reluctantly pulls free of her embrace and wraps his arms around his stomach, sighing. “Fives told me today that he tried to flirt with Master Unduli when we were all still on Coruscant,” he says. It _had_ been a funny story, Rex just hadn't felt able to enjoy it. “He practically propositioned her. I think that might be why he didn't come see us very much for the last week or so.”

Ahsoka raises an eyebrow, chuckling quietly. “Of course he did. Master Unduli though? She's lectured me on not having attachments before. I don't think he could have picked a worse Jedi to flirt with.”

“I think he should have gone after General Plo,” Rex says, smiling despite himself. “He seems like he'd be interested in a little flirting.”

Ahsoka actually laughs, probably mostly because she's startled by the joke. _Little gods_ Rex has missed that sound. She doesn't laugh much these days.

~~~

(She knows what Rex is trying to do, but they both need it, so she doesn't push.)

“Master Plo is too traditional,” Ahsoka says, pretends to be deep in thought. “Fives would have better luck with Master Vos.”

Rex smiles, just a little. “You're right. I'll have to tell him.” And that smile, the way his eyes _almost_ sparkle when he looks down at her, that makes her entire day seem _brighter._

(She's still too afraid of losing him.)

 _It's good to see you smile,_ she sends, slips her arms around him again and tucks her head under his chin. _A_ **_real_ ** _smile, not the one you give the men._ He seems a little surprised. _You might fool them, but I know better._

~~~

 _I'm not even sure I fool them sometimes_ , he thinks. He tries, and most days they seem to be as comfortable with him as ever.

Sometimes, though, he thinks they seem more _careful_ , less quick to tease. (There are still the occasional digs about him and _Commander Tano_ , _you're really moving up in the world, Captain_ \- but even those comments seem restricted to his better days.)

He's glad Ahsoka understands why he hasn't told his brothers anything about Kadavo - just like he understands why she doesn't talk to General Skywalker. His men _trust_ him and if he tells them what happened, how much he's struggling, he has to accept he's not worthy of that trust - may lose their confidence altogether. And what use does the GAR have for a Captain that freezes every time he tries to fight?

He realizes Ahsoka can hear most of that so he blocks it out, runs his fingers over the scars on her montrals absentmindedly. “I'm at least not fooling them about you and me - Tup and Fives won't shut up about it. I'm going to have to start giving them extra drills to run or something.”

He can tell Ahsoka isn't happy he's deflected the conversation back to his men, but it's just _safer_ that way. He doesn't _want_ to talk about it.

~~~

Ahsoka grimaces when he redirects the conversation to Tup and Fives’ continued gossip. “I wish they’d stop. The entire _battalion_ will be talking about us soon, if they’re not already, and if the wrong person hears, reports back to the Jedi Council…” She lets her voice trail off, knowing he picks up on the unspoken implications.

She could be expelled from the Order for this.

 _Falling_ in love, struggling with that attachment, isn’t the problem--most Jedi face that trial at some point in their lives, Master Kenobi had told her once (and there was an old pain that flashed across his face then that spoke of long-ago memories, and she wondered who _he’d_ loved--still loved, if the pain was anything to go by)--it’s _acting_ on the attachment, cultivating it rather than cutting it off. If the Council knew, they’d at the very least have Rex reassigned to another battalion (or the Kaminoans would take him in for _reconditioning,_ a fate worse than death).

“I know,” Rex says heavily, one hand tightening around her. (Sometimes, she feels like if they just hold tightly enough, cling to each other and never let go, maybe it’ll be enough. Maybe they can keep from being torn apart.) He’s responding to both her spoken words and the thoughts that pass through her mind. “Maybe you can have the General talk to them? Fives will listen, if General Skywalker tells him.”

Ahsoka considers that for a moment. It’s a good idea, she has to admit, but… “If I say anything to Anakin, he’ll lose the ability to deny he knew about us, if the Council finds out.” And then he’d be in trouble, and possibly under more scrutiny, and she may be the only one who knows about his marriage--which the Council _cannot_ know about, not now, maybe not ever. Not unless the rules on attachment change. Which is, she freely admits, _unlikely._ “I’ll have to talk to them, make them _understand.”_ She huffs out a sigh. Making Fives understand anything serious is typically a challenge, to say the least.

Maybe having Tup there would help.

~~~

Rex would prefer to avoid admitting their relationship to his men at _all_ \- they’re going to be insufferable, he knows that for a fact. But they probably would listen if Ahsoka talked to them, they always do. They really aren’t supposed to have romantic relationships anyway, not ongoing ones, and a Clone Captain with a Jedi Commander? They all know that’s not allowed. It wouldn’t be hard to get them to be cautious. It’s just that he doesn’t really want them to know, or anyone else for that matter.

(If no one knows, no one can use it against them.)

“You should try talking to Fives,” he encourages her, despite himself. “He cares what you think; if you explain it to him he’ll listen.” He could try, but these days he doesn’t like to talk to Fives much. Fives, for all his jokes and recklessness, is too perceptive, and Rex’s defenses are thin. Especially with how tired he is.

He can feel Ahsoka doesn’t really want to have that conversation either, and he hides a certain morbid amusement. What a pair they make.

Ahsoka pulls away from him and walks to the door of the salle, turning to face him a moment. “How’s Anakin today?” she asks, her voice raw.

Rex sighs. His General had seemed to be in decent good humor when Rex saw him, although he no longer really believes Anakin when he says he’s okay. He had known well enough to look for the stiffness in his steps and shoulders, the restraint in his voice, and he knows that when he’d left Anakin in the armory, his General hadn’t been at his best. “I’m not really sure. Not good, I think.”

Ahsoka nods, rests her hands on her sabers. Rex wants to tell her he thinks she should try to talk to Anakin and ask him what’s wrong, but he knows she’s been avoiding it because then Anakin will probably ask _her_ what’s been wrong. He follows her out of the salle, keeping those thoughts to himself. Today isn’t the day to push anything on her - it’s not one of her better days either.

~~~

Ahsoka wanders the ship with Rex for a while before finally sighing and saying, “I'd better go find Fives.”

Rex nods, says, “I'm going to train,” by which he means _run simulations,_ although he doesn't know she knows that.

“Good luck,” she says, smiles at him.

He returns the smile, but his eyes are shadowed. “You, too.”

She finds Fives in the barracks, touching up the dark blue paint on his armor. “Commander.” He acknowledges her with a lazy grin and a half-hearted salute that splatters paint on her arms and dress. (She scowls at him, and he winks.) “What do you need?”

“To talk,” and she takes a deep breath. “It's serious, Fives.”

His expression does not change. But he at least stops painting. “About what?”

She swallows, twists her fingers together to hide the fact that her hands are shaking. (It feels _wrong,_ to be saying this. What if someone uses it against them again?) “You and Tup have been telling everyone who’ll listen about what Kix heard in the med bay.”

And Fives _smirks._ “Ohhhh, and you're here to deny it?”

Ahsoka closes her eyes, steadies herself. “No, Fives. I'm here to tell you that if the Council finds out, Rex could be reassigned, sent to Kamino for _reconditioning,”_ and she spits the word out like it's poison, “and I could easily be expelled from the Order.” At the word _reconditioning,_ Fives goes pale, sits straight up. “The Jedi Code specifically forbids attachments of any kind, including romantic relationships. This _can't_ spread outside the battalion, do you understand that?”

Fives swallows, nods, suddenly very serious. “I'm sorry, Commander. I'll tell the men.” She hasn't seen him this subdued in a long time. “We won't let that happen to either of you, on my word as an ARC trooper.”

“Thank you, Fives,” she says, feeling very tired all of a sudden. She drags one hand down her face.

The trooper nods, salutes again--much more sharply this time. “You're welcome, Commander.”

She sighs, turns to leave (what else is there to say?)--only to be stopped by his voice. “Commander?”

She stops, turns half around. “What, Fives?”

“Your dress looks good in 501st blue,” and he _winks._

She swears. “You're _incorrigible!”_

“I try my best!” he shouts after her as she jogs away.

(But he'd done what he'd been trying to do: make her laugh.)

~~~

Rex sets the simulation to a higher setting than he's done recently, leaves the rest of the settings automatic. When he first steps out onto the floor and draws his blasters, he feels confident, ready - as he always does. This time he can do this, this time he can run through it without hesitating.

It's when the simulation actually starts and the droids activate and the first volleys of blasterfire rain down that he _freezes_ . He tries to will himself to move but his stomach twists and his heart pounds and he just _can't_ , not until one of the training bolts hits him in the shoulder. Then he jumps behind a wall, fires quick, precise shots over it at the droids. It's easy, and if it weren't for the hollow anxiety in his stomach he wouldn't be worried.

The droids fall and he prepares to jump up and run to the next area of cover, a lower wall that might not be enough to shield his whole body. As he pushes up onto the balls of his feet, scans the arena for opponents, panic starts setting in again and he breathes through it, swears softly. If he could just keep moving he wouldn't have to deal with the panic, but he can't, not without getting shot far too many times.

Then he swallows down his terror and sprints across to the wall, shooting down two droids that try to advance from the side. He drops into a roll, ends up on his stomach behind the wall.

_The guard jabs him in the back with the staff, grinds the tip of it into his spine and electricity burns hot through his bones, tightens his fingers into pained claws._

Not this again, for kriff’s sake. He swallows and makes himself push up onto his elbows, fire his blasters into a row of clankers. His aim isn't as good this time and he swears, tries to steady his trembling arms. He takes out enough droids that he considers an assault - he could charge and shoot through their ranks, if he was fast enough.

But he doesn't trust himself to be “fast enough” these days, so he bides his time, shoots the advancing droids and eyes the route he's planning.

There's a brief pause in the assault, and he takes advantage of the opportunity to run for the stairs that lead up to the second level of this particular simulation. Stairways are dangerous places to fight, but he has time to get up them before the droids catch up to him. He stands at the top of the stairs and shoots them as they try to follow. It's so easy - he might actually finish this simulation.

He’s made a stupid, stupid mistake. The second level is open to the first, with no railing of any kind, and he keeps an eye out that way for more droids - but he fails to look around the second level for incoming clankers, expecting to hear them, notice them, if he has to.

The assassin droids come out of nowhere, so fast he panics _(the blaster explodes in Ahsoka’s hands and he can’t even think for the pain)_ , and start shooting at him, crowding him towards the edge of the floor. He can dodge the first few shots, and returns his own, but suddenly he’s teetering on the edge of the floor and one of the droids shoots him in the head, directly between the eyes, and he falls.

The simulation shuts down when he’s shot, but when he hits the floor he wants to get back up immediately, needs to, it’s important, a slow soldier is a _dead_ soldier- but he’s winded, can’t get a full breath, and that just makes it all worse. He gasps for air and rolls over, pushes himself to his feet. But the droids are gone, the second level is too, and everything’s back to being quiet and dim. Right, he’s fine.

“Simulation failed.”

Rex can’t help it, he _swears_ , slamming his blasters back into their holsters and yanking his helmet off. What is _wrong_ with him? He’s not some shiny in his first battle, he’s a Captain, and he’s supposed to be _stronger_ than this. Kadavo is over. He shouldn’t be seeing it like he’s still there. _I can't do a “next time,” Ahsoka._ Turning to go, he tucks his helmet under his arm, thinks he should probably be more careful - his back and head hurt where they’d slammed against the floor. He shouldn’t be hurting himself in kriffing training simulations.

~~~

_The boy dies._

_Over and over again she watches it happen: he stumbles, falls. She offers him a hand (she just wants to help, she knows it’s easier to get up when there’s a friendly hand to hold, especially here), and he takes it and he’s grateful and he’s_ **_smiling_ ** _and then the guard comes._

 _The guard comes and the boy dies and she doesn’t even know his name, can’t even give him the traditional death rites. They leave his body on the ground like_ **_trash,_ ** _like he’s not even a person, and it’s all_ **_her fault._ **

_Rex almost dies, because of her. Because she just wanted to_ **_help._ **

_She gives up all her principles, she lets go of every ideal the Jedi and Anakin and Master Obi-Wan and Master Plo have ever told her and she can’t even make herself care. She doesn’t care and she_ **_wants Agruss dead_ ** _and the Dark Side comes so easily to her fingertips._

_The boy falls, dies._

_Because of_ **_her._ **

_She kills him just as surely as if she’d cut through him with her ‘sabers._

Ahsoka snaps awake with a stifled scream (can’t make noise or the guards will hear), shivering and crying.

She doesn’t even know his _name._

She’s shaking, hands trembling, breathing shallow and shuddering and desperate (Rex is screaming and he won’t--can’t--stop and she shouldn’t have fought, she shouldn’t have); she kicks her blankets off and practically throws herself from the bed, drags on the nearest pair of leggings underneath her sleep shirt, calls her ‘sabers to her hands.

(She’s standing over Agruss, _you won’t kill me, it’s against Jedi principles,_ and she’s _smiling_ when she whispers _you shouldn’t have broken me.)_

Ahsoka almost throws her lightsabers at the wall, a broken sound slipping past her lips (jagged like shattered glass, like the screams of the Togrutans--of _her people--_ as shock whips come crashing down)--but she _can’t,_ she _has_ to get over this, she’s got to _fight._ So she throws her door open with a wave of the Force, runs barefoot through the corridors (the durasteel floor cool against the soles of her feet) until she reaches the salle. She ignites her ‘sabers (flinches at the hissing sound), tries to step into the first form--

The invasive _cold_ of the Dark Side whispers through her thoughts, and she _screams,_ raw and fractured, sprints through the first kata with all her strength and speed, progresses to the second one (the guard stands over her with a shock whip and he laughs and laughs as she screams), staggers as she misses a step--

She shouldn’t be having this much _trouble,_ it’s just a simple kata!

(Rex catches her and they yank her from his arms where she’s safe and fling her to the ground, they order Rex to kneel and he won’t and her collar activates and she can’t stop screaming, howling in _pain_ so intense she can’t breathe.)

Ahsoka misses another step, swears in a cobbled-together mashup of Huttese and Mando’a, tries to start again--but the second she slips back into the familiar motions, she feels _cold_ again, frozen, and there’s that awful rage and _hatred_ boiling in her blood _(tell them to burn the whole kriffing thing down)_ and she can’t--she won’t--she drops her ‘sabers like she’s been burned, staggers back until her back hits a wall, her legs turning to water beneath her. She slides to a sitting position, pulls her knees to her chest, wraps her arms around them and hugs herself.

She’s _fine_ during the day (well, sort of, at least she can make it through her forms without screaming), but as soon as she thinks of _actually_ fighting she feels the burns on her back and headtails and montrals like they’re fresh, hears the screams of the colonists, of her fellow slaves--sees herself _doing nothing_ because she’s too _exhausted_ to care. (If she’d just _tried harder_ she maybe could’ve done it, she should’ve done _something_ to save them, to stop it, she thinks of Ahsri being whipped on that first day, how the Togrutan woman had still managed to care enough to help _her_ when she needed it, and what had she done in return?)

Her ‘sabers are still on, but she can’t make herself get up to turn them off.

 _Just give in,_ the Son’s cold voice hisses, edged with that same cruel amusement as always (he’s haunted her since Mortis, and it’s just gotten worse). _You and I, we could do amazing things together. We could make those slavers pay, bring peace to the galaxy, ensure no one is ever a slave again._

“Stop it,” she whimpers, curling up tighter, unable to tear her eyes away from her ‘sabers lying on the floor. “You’re _dead,_ you can’t do anything.”

 _I might be dead, but I can still show you how to accomplish your dreams, your deepest desires. I can give you the power you need and the knowledge to use it,_ and tonight she’s not sure she’s strong enough to say no. The Son--the Dark Side--whatever the voice in her head is, it always _knows_ when she’s at her weakest, when the nightmares are the worst. _You might as well join me, you know,_ and _kriff_ but his voice won’t go away. _You’re hardly a Jedi, not after how you behaved in the mines of Kadavo. You didn’t even_ **_try_ ** _to stop the Zygerrian from killing Shiel, not truly. And look how easily the Dark Side came to you, when you reached for it during your escape. You_ **_belong_ ** _with me._

Shiel. The unknown boy’s name. How is it that _the Son,_ the literal avatar of Darkness, knows his name and she doesn’t? _You belong with me,_ his voice whispers again, _you know you do. Don’t you remember when you were my chosen vessel, the mortal form in which my power was made manifest? Don’t you remember how easy it was, then, how every desire of your heart was within your grasp? I could give that to you again._

And oh, _Force,_ but she _does_ remember how it felt, to have the entire Dark Side of the Force at her beck and call. Everything was right there--she didn’t have to worry about _dying_ in the next battle or her Master dying or anyone she _loved_ being lost, because she had the power to _save them,_ she could _stop the war--_

~~~

Rex is woken up by her fear. Most of the time at night they shield their thoughts - it’s so they don’t have to see each other’s nightmares. If he’s awake because she’s projecting, it must be _bad_.

A truly horrible nightmare.

Or something worse, something real.

He flings off his blanket, stuffs his feet into his boots, and grabs his blasters, rushing out into the hall. He follows the pull of her thoughts, catches freezing breaths of _cold_ \- she’s in the salle again, of course she is, and part of him tells him he should slow down because they aren’t under attack and she’s probably fine (relatively), but he can’t be _sure_ until he sees her.

When he gets to the salle, he doesn’t even pause to alert her to his presence, just slams the button to open the door and fidgets until it opens far enough that he can duck under it.

Her sabers are on the floor and his heart slams against his ribs - he raises his blasters on instinct until his eyes find her, curled up against the wall and he slows down enough to re-evaluate the situation.

A chill runs down his spine and he can’t pinpoint _why_ but he knows enough not to ignore it; Ahsoka’s thoughts still feel like ice and panic so he sets his blasters on the floor (reluctantly) and hurries over to her, kneels down on the floor and projects his concern and love.

She looks up and for a moment she shrinks back a little, and her eyes are wide and scared.

 _What’s wrong, Soka?_ He wants to pull her into his arms but he waits, because the last thing he wants to do is scare her more.

She doesn’t answer him directly, instead opening her mind to him and letting him see some of the cold, some of the doubts, and then there’s a _voice_. It’s not Ahsoka’s, it’s not anyone he’s ever heard, and he slams up shields automatically, pulls back.

 _Ah, here’s your Captain,_ the voice says, a laughing sound, silky and ancient. _You know they won’t let you keep him, don’t you? But I can make sure you never have to lose him_.

Ahsoka’s looking at him like she’s afraid of what he’s going to think, and he’s quick to take her hands in his, tracing her scars, although his mind is racing. He doesn’t know what that voice is but he wants it _out_ of her head. “Ahsoka, what _is_ that?” he asks, holding eye contact, hoping to keep her focused on him, not on whatever the kriff is in her head.

“It’s- he’s…” She pauses, and Rex tightens his hands around hers, waiting. She makes a frustrated sound and pushes snippets of memory at him; he sees a planet that isn’t quite _natural_ , an ethereal woman (the Daughter, Ahsoka names her), and a _darkness_ that has a face, pale and red and black (this is the voice, he realizes, Ahsoka calls him _the Son_ ). There’s a memory of General Skywalker controlling both of them, the Daughter and the Son, overpowering them with a fierce shout. With that he sees even more memories, ones he’s not sure she meant to show: Ahsoka attacking Anakin with the same raw abandon she’d shown on Kadavo, a woman telling her there was _a wildness to her, seeds of the Dark Side_ , a voice humming _chains are the easy part_ , and a sudden feeling of power fleeing her and… and _nothing_. A feeling of being pulled back from an abyss and her Master’s arms around her.

The memories answer his question, and tell him something else: his Jedi had _died_ . The voice in her head, the _Son_ , had killed her.

He reacts without planning; leaning in and pressing his forehead against hers, he floods her mind with anger and protectiveness and love, hoping to force that voice _out_ . _My Jedi, I love you._

~~~

Ahsoka closes her eyes, grabbing onto Rex’s projection like it’s a lifeline, her hands trembling in his. She wraps herself in his protective anger, his love, like armor, hoping it’ll do _something--_

But she can’t seem to push the cold _away._

 _You think_ **_he_ ** _is strong enough to unseat me, Avatar? I’ve been here since you first came to Mortis, since your_ **_Master_ ** _first responded to my aging, weak Father’s call. Nothing can get rid of me, unless_ **_I_ ** _choose to leave. And I_ **_like_ ** _you._ The way the Son’s voice curls around the last sentence makes her sick. _And now look what you’ve done? You drug your Captain into this mess, and now he knows of your… unfortunate demise, and how my meddlesome Sister resurrected you. Does he know how the embodiment of Light_ **_died_ ** _to save you?_

“No, that’s not _true,”_ Ahsoka gasps out, fighting back burning tears (Rex feels _confused_ in the back of her mind, and she wonders if he can even hear most of the conversation). “You _killed_ her--”

 _Did I? Now, now, Avatar, why would I kill my own Sister, whom I_ **_loved_ ** _?_ He very deliberately includes Rex in that projection, she notices.

She tries to counter him, but: _You_ **_were_ ** _me, for a time. You know how much I loved my Sister,_ and he’s _right_ she remembers the utter _cold_ and the anger, the wrath, the _fury_ of a hurricane, love like lightning, raw and powerful, that in the end consumed both him _and_ his sister.

And Ahsoka realizes, then, that she _doesn’t know._ She doesn’t know what’s right--what’s wrong--everything is _twisted,_ and she can’t even _feel_ Rex anymore, surrounded by Darkness with a face, a _name,_ thick and choking, and she’s _suffocating_ under a Will that is _not her own,_ a vast, alien Presence that doesn’t _belong to her,_ and she’s falling, utterly alone and lost in an endless expanse of _nothing._

 **_You are mine_ ** echoes around and around, reverberating through every thought until she can’t form a coherent _anything,_ can’t even reach out to the presences she knows are supposed to be there, tied to her on warmly-glowing strings of love and the Force--and the moment she thinks that, the voice roars _no!_

 _No,_ and she can’t--she can’t--she _reaches,_ but there’s just _nothingness,_ an overwhelming feeling of _possession,_ and an Order she cannot refuse: **_your lightsabers._ **

Instinctively, she knows she _can’t,_ although she’s not wholly sure why (a pitiful excuse of a slaver whispers _you won’t kill me),_ she _won’t,_ and she clings to that absolute as everything shatters.

~~~

Rex is flung out of her mind as shields like mountain ranges slam up between them, and her gentle blue eyes bleed into yellow. He tries to press back into her thoughts but their bond is suddenly hard to find, hard to access, and it’s just him and she’s shaking and there’s a dangerous gleam in her eyes. There is something _else_ here with them, taking her away, and this feels like all of his nightmares.

“ _Cyare_ , please,” he says, running his hand over her cheek, around the back of her head, trying to pull her back, but there’s not a response and he doesn’t know what to do. There’s nothing here to fight, it’s just a dark salle and a silent voice and he’s _helpless_.

Then suddenly he remembers the memory he’d seen, the moment of General Skywalker controlling both the Son and the Daughter - forcing this voice into submission.

He needs Anakin, _now_.

Gritting his teeth, he fits his arms around Ahsoka’s trembling form and stands, holding her tight; he’s a little afraid she’ll try to fight him but she doesn’t. Leaving her sabers and his blasters on the floor of the salle, he _runs_ . Out of the training room, through the cool halls, his feet too loud on the metal floors. She’s stiff in his arms and he can’t feel _anything_ from her anymore, and he’d forgotten what it feels like, not being able to feel her, and he _has to get to Anakin_.

He gets to Anakin’s room, and of course he can’t just walk in, Anakin has a lock on his door, so Rex kicks the door, dares to shout. “Anakin! General Skywalker! _Wake up!_ ”

The response is far readier than Rex had even hoped - the door hisses open and Anakin takes one look at them before stepping out of the way. “Put her on my bed. What the _hell_ -” and then his face goes slack with horror and he actually grabs Ahsoka from Rex, carries her to his bed himself, and Rex starts pacing, probing at their distant bond. She has to come back, Anakin has to get her back.

Anakin rests his hand on her forehead, closes his eyes - and Ahsoka’s mouth and eyes open, and for a moment Rex thinks it’s already over, but her voice doesn’t sound like _her_ when she speaks - there’s an echo behind it, deep and amused. “If it isn’t the Chosen One!” She sits up, shrugging off Anakin’s hands.

Rex could be _sick_ . This isn’t right and he doesn’t know what to do because he’s no Jedi, he’s just a clone and he can’t fight things like this. _Please, General, please fix this_.

“You’re always so concerned about her - I don’t know why, she’s very strong. Stronger now that I have her - you needn’t worry. She’ll be safe from this war you’ve created, with me.”

Anakin’s jaw tightens. “Get out of her head,” he says quietly, and Rex knows him well enough to recognize the dangerous kind of rage his General is concealing with that soft voice.

“Quite the temper you have, Chosen One - I’d forgotten. I would go, I really would, but she’s been a wonderful host and I’d hate to leave without a proper thank you.”

Rex curls his hands into fists, taps his right hand hard against his thigh. Ahsoka’s eyes don’t look right and the deep echo behind her voice makes something in him go _cold_ . _Please_. He doesn’t even know who he expects to be listening.

~~~

_The Son._

Anakin clenches his jaw, his fists, anything and everything he _can_ clench, _wills_ himself not to respond.

But it’s _really karking hard._

“I was pretty sure you _died_ on Mortis,” he says, tries to keep his voice as level as he can (knows he’s gone still and quiet and cold). “I’m honestly disappointed to be wrong.”

“Oh, no, Chosen One--you’re quite right. My original form perished, as did that of my Father and my Sister. But just as aspects of them live on, so do I. I left a seed of my essence within my chosen Avatar’s mind, and when my first physical form died, my mind was pulled to that seed.” The Son gestures, using Ahsoka’s body like she’s a _puppet,_ and it takes every ounce of self-control he possesses to keep himself from _snarling._ “And voila! As soon as your apprentice drew on the Dark Side, I awakened--”

“Wait, _what?”_ Anakin _freezes,_ stares at those Sith-gold eyes, so _wrong_ in his Padawan’s face. “Ahsoka would _never_ use the Dark Side. _Never.”_

The Son _smiles,_ cold and cruel and that same smirk he saw on the Zygerrian guards with their shock whips (and he swallows a scream, has to _focus,_ he can fall apart _later),_ and it looks so _wrong_ on Ahsoka’s face. “That’s what you think. But how much do you really _know_ about what happened on Kadavo, Chosen One?” He pauses, just long enough for the question to sink in. “Oh, that’s right-- _nothing._ Because she doesn’t trust you.”

“That’s a lie,” but it’s a weak protest (he remembers Ahsoka refusing to let him any deeper than the surface of his mind before they went to Kiros, remembers the way she keeps her shields up at all times, won’t tell him about the memories, the nightmares, the flashbacks he _knows_ she’s having because he has them too) because what if it’s _not?_

(And that little voice, the one he always tries to hide, the one that makes him want _more_ than he should, whispers _she doesn’t trust you, just like Obi-Wan, just like the Council, she’s just like the rest of the Jedi,_ and for the first time he can’t quite tell it _no.)_

“Anakin,” Rex says, sharp and urgent, “I’ll tell you everything, just _get him out of her head.”_ He takes a shuddering breath (and _that_ alone alerts Anakin that _something’s_ **_wrong_ ** _),_ says, “Can you feel her?”

He reaches for the training bond (maybe he can draw her out that way, can find her), and--nothing. _“Shavit,”_ he snarls (he _can’t_ take her away from him, he _won’t let him)._ “What have you _done_ to her?”

The Son shrugs, the movement too elegant and fluid. “She is mine now.”

 _Mine._ Like he owns her. _Mine._ Like she’s _property._

 _“Wrong answer,”_ Anakin _growls,_ through gritted teeth, and he forces one hand open, holds it out in front of him, _reaches_ for the familiar rushing power of the Force. “Get the karking hell _out of my Padawan!”_

Ahsoka’s face contorts. _“No!”_ the Son snarls, rabid and feral and wild, _“She’s mine!”_ and there’s a disturbing layer of Ahsoka’s voice underneath, and--

The anger all drains away, suddenly, leaving only calm certainty behind. He knows what he needs to do. “Enough,” he says simply, and puts every shred of power he has into his voice, into that single word.

The Son _wails._

And then Ahsoka’s eyes _(Ahsoka’s_ eyes, blue and wide and unfocused) stare at him for a long, bewildered moment, before she simply… collapses.

…

It feels like all the energy’s been drained out of her, like she can barely even _breathe,_ and she _knows_ Anakin and Rex are going to be _losing their minds,_ so she reaches for the bonds, opens them both at the same time--a three-way comm call, almost.

 _I’m alright,_ she promises, _just--no physical energy, all of a sudden._

~~~

When she goes limp, Rex jerks to a halt, everything feeling like it's _stopped_ . “Soka?” he says, knowing he sounds strangled and desperate. Has he _lost_ her, after all that? He wants to pull her into his arms, feel for a pulse, but he lets Anakin do it instead - his General looks almost as scared as he feels, but then he puts his fingers against her wrist and sighs, closing his eyes for a second.

“She's fine, Rex,” Anakin tells him, and Rex swallows back something approaching a sob, goes back to pacing. It's fine, she's not dead, Anakin got her back.

Then her presence brushes solid against his thoughts, no more stony shields, and he lets her in - and barely stops himself from flooding her mind with soothing love when he realizes she's communicating with Anakin, too.

He locks down his fear, too - neither of them need to feel that. _Kriff, Ahsoka. I'm glad you're alright_.

 _He's gone,_ Anakin’s voice says, and Rex feels a little uncomfortable being at all privvy to his General’s thoughts, but he hides that. _He's completely gone, Snips. He won't be doing that again._

Rex feels that Ahsoka doesn't totally believe him, and he doesn't either except General Skywalker of all people would know what he was talking about.

 _You should thank your Captain for getting you here so fast_ , Anakin thinks, and Rex could swear there's a hint of amusement in the thought.

Ahsoka’s focus does turn to him, and Rex shifts where he stands by Anakin’s bed. _Thank you, Rex,_ she thinks, and there's warmth and relief and a little residual fear. _Really._

 _You're welcome,_ he thinks, finds he feels awkward suddenly. This kind of communication is supposed to be private but he can feel Anakin there too and it makes him nervous, sets his teeth on edge.

 _You need to sleep, Ahsoka,_ Anakin thinks, and he sends a questioning thought Rex’s way. _Can she stay with you?_

Rex acquiesces quickly. He doesn't overthink it, and there isn't much teasing in Anakin’s thoughts - his General is angry and worried.

“Thank you, General,” he says out loud, trying for a professional salute and tone, although he's suddenly very aware that he's just in his blacks and boots and Anakin is shirtless and barefoot.

“Of course, Captain,” Anakin says, smiling a little.

~~~

Ahsoka is _more_ than okay with staying with Rex, though she tries to keep that feeling under wraps so Anakin can’t catch it. His mind is more open to hers than it’s been since… well, since before Kiros, even, and the shielding is harder.

Maybe that’s why she catches a brief impression of another bond tied to his mind, one that’s decidedly _not_ his training bond with Master Obi-Wan. _Master, did you go straight home after Kadavo and bond with Padme?_ she asks, and only then realizes Rex can still hear. _“Shavit,”_ she says aloud.

At least she didn’t say _with your wife._

There’s a long, drawn-out silence, and then Rex says, "If you want, sir, I can pretend I didn’t hear any of that.”

“I’d… appreciate that, thanks Rex,” Anakin says. “The Code--”

“Forbids attachment and you can be expelled from the Order, I know, sir,” Rex says.

Ahsoka thinks he doesn’t realize that he’s just confirmed _everything._ She closes down her training bond with Anakin with a rush of warm gratitude, a silent _thank you_ for everything he’s just done (and everything _else_ he’s done for her, really), reaches for Rex. _What happened to my ‘sabers? The Son wanted me to call them, but I_ **_couldn’t_ ** _._

~~~

 _They're back in the salle, with my blasters_ . _We can get them if you want_.

 _Thanks._ Ahsoka sits up and Rex and Anakin both say, “Don't!” at the same time.

“I'm fine,” she grumbles. “I can walk, I'm not injured.”

Rex doesn't hide his disbelief from her, just follows her to the door of Anakin's room, ready to offer his support the second she needs it. Anakin grabs his shoulder just before he leaves (and Rex _does not_ flinch), saying softly, “You're still going to tell me about Kadavo.” It's not quite a request, more a reminder that Rex had promised. Rex hides that from Ahsoka, nods.

“I am, sir.”

Anakin lets go of him, dips his head respectfully. “Goodnight, Captain. Snips, please promise to _rest_?”

Ahsoka mumbles “I promise,” and she and Rex leave Anakin's room. They're quiet as they walk back to the salle, mostly because there's not really anything to say. Rex keeps his thoughts from straying to how scared he was or how wrong it had felt or how he knows now that he almost lost her.

They get her sabers back, and Rex picks up his blasters, glad to have them again. Only a few steps after they leave the salle, though, he feels Ahsoka getting tired, her steps getting heavier, and she's swaying. He doesn't ask permission before lifting her unceremoniously into his arms - because she won't give it, she'll just say she's fine and then almost fall over - and carrying her back to his room. She protests, of course - _I'm fine, Rex, honestly, this is ridiculous -_ but he ignores her, sends back a pulse of exasperated affection. When they get to his room, he lays her down ever so gently on his bed and sets his blasters down next to his armor, peels off his boots. _Go to sleep, Soka_ , he thinks, because she's thinking too loudly.

 _I'm trying._ She's annoyed at him, but he doesn't really care. She's here and not dead and that _thing_ is out of her head and he's just glad that this time he didn't lose her.

He eases into the bed facing her, pulls his blanket over both of them, and traces his fingers over her cheek. Her eyes are blue again and he _loves_ that blue, feels like he can be sure it's really her.

She should sleep, but he lets himself tilt her chin up so he can kiss her, slow and lazy and _relieved_ . _You're safe, Ahsoka,_ he thinks, and it's half to reassure himself, really.

 _I thought you wanted me to sleep,_ she thinks, although since she's kissing him back she can't mind too much. _You're not helping._

He pulls back and her displeasure at that is definite, but without bite. _You're right. Sorry._

 _I hate you,_ she thinks, and he sighs softly and puts an arm around her waist, shifting closer to her.

_I don't care, just go to sleep._

Her presence is safe and reassuring and he finds himself drifting towards sleep too, arm automatically tightening around her so he can be sure no one can take her away from him. Not tonight.

~~~

Rex holds her close and she smiles, even though she can still see her nightmares lurking in the back of her mind (Shiel, that was his name, and she’ll treasure that revelation), even though she’s still _cold_ and small and scared, even though she’s still just _waiting_ for the Son’s voice to return, to cut her off again, to leave her _alone._

 _Don’t leave me,_ she pleads with Rex, on the edge of sleep, even though she doesn’t _want_ to be--she’s _exhausted_ in the wake of the Son’s possession of her, can barely keep her eyes open even though she doesn’t want to close them. _No shields tonight,_ **_please_ ** _._

She feels a hum of assent from Rex, and understanding, and she gratefully curls up in his mind, luxuriating in the feel of him. _It’s alright, Soka, I’m here,_ he promises, wrapping her in his love, and she lets out a soft huff of air.

 _How’d you know to take me to Anakin?_ she asks, even though the question really isn’t _that_ important, because she’s curious.

In response, he shows her a flash of memory--Anakin snarling _On. Your. Knees!_ and both Son and Daughter letting go of her and Master Obi-Wan, shifting back to humanoid form, kneeling before him.

_Oh._

_Is he really married to the Senator?_ Rex asks.

Ahsoka laughs, nestles her face into his chest, letting his closeness fill her with a languid comfort she only ever feels _here_ , in his arms. _Since the first battle of Geonosis. I’m the only one who knows officially._

She feels Rex chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath her montrals. _So_ **_that’s_ ** _why you put so many credits into the betting pool._

 _Well, I wasn’t going to let the opportunity get away from me…_ She trails off, content just to _be,_ to just breathe. _I love you, Rex._

The last thing she hears before sleep finally overcomes her is his answering, _I love you, too._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Conversations are had, Rex and Ahsoka both realize some truths, some crucial steps to recovery are made, and Fives is _really kriffing insufferable_.
> 
> (the angst reaches a peak in this chapter, but from the end on out it's pure fluff, you guys, so just hang on!!)

Rex successfully avoids General Skywalker all of the next morning and through lunch (which requires enlisting Dogma to bring him food from the mess so he can eat in a maintenance room close to the training salle where Anakin won't look for him). Ahsoka notices what he's doing in his thoughts, although thankfully not  _ why _ he's doing it, and seems bemused about it whenever she brushes against his mind.

_ Do you want me to tell him to leave you alone?  _ she offers, and Rex snorts.

_ If I thought he would listen I would love that. _

Today is  _ bad _ , full of nightmarish images, and he thinks it's because of all that had happened last night, the reminders of the Dark, the prospect of having to talk to General Skywalker about Kadavo.

All of this feels like  _ his fault _ and if he tells Anakin what happened, Anakin will blame him, will say what Rex has said to himself ever since the mission: he should have  _ fought _ .

It's when he goes back to the barracks after lunch that Anakin catches him - he walks through the door to see Dogma looking intensely awkward as his General asks, “Where the hell  _ is _ he?” Dogma shoots Rex a  _ look _ over Anakin’s shoulder, a plea for help, and before Rex can decide if it's too cruel to back out and leave Dogma to deal with the General, Jesse points at him and says lazily, “He's right there, General.”

Kriff. He's going to have Jesse doing dishes in the mess later.

He tries his best to look surprised to see General Skywalker, like he hasn't spent all day ducking out of the way down ship hallways to keep from having to talk to him, like he isn't panicking a little. “General. What did you need?”

Anakin glares at him. “I need to talk to you.”

“All due respect, sir, but do we have to talk  _ now? _ I have things I have to-”

“ _ Now, _ Rex.”

Some of his men look up in surprise, glancing from Anakin to Rex. Anakin isn't known for his patience, but he almost never snaps at Rex.

Rex sighs. “Yes, sir.”

Anakin walks out of the barracks and Rex follows, taking deep, slow breaths. He promised Anakin he'd tell him  _ (everything) _ and he has to keep that promise. Maybe if Anakin knows he can help Ahsoka.

It doesn't feel any better though. He can't talk about Kadavo without mentioning what had happened to him, and the last person he wants knowing about that is his General. Anakin’s going to keep him off the field even longer now, maybe even reassign him. His General will know that Rex doesn't really deserve his confidence.

Anakin leads him back to his personal quarters, and Rex pulls his shields up tight around his mind, tries to force all the memories down.

And honestly it probably wasn't kind of Rex to avoid Anakin all day - after last night, his General probably deserves to at least know about what happened in Kadavo’s control room.

Anakin sits down on the edge of his bed and waves his hand, pulling a chair away from a desk to sit next to his bed. “Sit,” he says, and smiles a little. Rex thinks he's trying to help him feel more comfortable - it's not working, but he appreciates it. “So.” Anakin fidgets a little, runs his hand over the back of his neck. “What the hell was the Son talking about?”

Rex doesn't even know where to start. He sits down in the offered chair, rests his hands on his lap, and forces himself to sit still and meet Anakin’s eyes. That's harder than he'd expected.

_ Ahsoka looks dangerous, powerful, like lightning on Kamino, moving so fast he can't follow her strikes, and the Zygerrians fall like puppets with their strings cut. _

“You have to understand, sir,” he says, carefully. “What they did to us there, it- Anyone would have reacted like she did.” It's an effort to force the words past a lump in his throat, and he swears silently, tries to hold it together.

_ She clings to the ground, screaming, and they're holding his arms, and he's choking, and he can't reach her. _

“Okay,” Anakin says, eyes flicking over Rex’s face like he's trying to figure something out. But Rex finds he can't quite go on, doesn't want to, doesn't know  _ how to _ . “Kadavo was a processing facility, right?” his General prompts, and Rex nods quickly.

“Right. We were doing mining work but I don't think that was the point.” He  _ knows _ it wasn't the point. “It was… They wanted to tire us out.” He doesn't think he  _ can _ talk about the rest _. _ “You know slavers, sir, they had shock whips and they used them. Not… not so much on us. I tried fighting on the first day. They-”  _ it's not that hard, just say it, _ “whipped some of the slaves as punishment. They were doing that to Ahsoka too.”

_ Ahsri and the older Togrutan shrieking as the whip cuts across their headtails and shoulders, and he won't let that happen to them anymore so he lifts his hands, steps back. He can't help them. _

~~~

Yes, Anakin  _ knows _ slavers.

He knows Zygerrians, too, knows their cold cruelty, how easy it comes to them, and remembering the injuries Rex and Ahsoka had come out of Kadavo with he’s pretty sure he can put together a sort of picture of what happened. He clenches his fist near his lightsaber, tries to breathe his anger  _ out. _ Now is not the time. “Snips said something about them using the two of you against each other,” he notes quietly, as controlled as he can be.

Rex nods again, clearly reluctant to speak. “They would… shock her, with the collar or a whip, if--” and he stops, shakes his head. “I guess they figured out we’d be more compliant that way when one of the guards,” and he pauses again, “was whipping her headtails,” (and Anakin grits his teeth and swallows a swear because he  _ knows _ how sensitive Ahsoka’s headtails are) “and they had to… hold me back.” (Anakin thinks that’s an understatement, probably.) “They’d been keeping us separated, but after that they put us together.”

Rex stops there, swallows convulsively, and Anakin feels bad for pushing--but only a little, because he  _ has _ to know, to  _ understand. _ “The Son said she used the Dark Side,” and his voice shakes a little despite his best efforts, and there’s a hint of a growl there.  _ “How, _ Rex? Why?”

He doesn’t  _ understand. _ His Snips would never--sure, she’s fierce and bright and reckless, emotional like he is, but she doesn’t have the raw  _ hatred _ required to use the Dark Side.

_ (Unlike you, _ the little voice murmurs, insidious as ever, and he breathes in, sharply.)

~~~

She'd been so angry and cold, all hatred and vengeance, and Rex feels some of that anger pulsing with his heartbeat. It helps him ignore the images that burn at the back of his mind, Ahsoka’s memory of calling the slaver Master, his own memories of arcing pain and  _ giving up _ .

“They made us  _ beg _ ,” Rex growls, hides the tremor in his voice with  _ fury _ . “When she tried to fight they punished me, and if I made a mistake, they hurt  _ her _ .” He doesn't say what he wants to, that they made them kneel over and over again and he hated it every time but it was better than the pain. He wills Anakin to understand because who  _ wouldn't _ want to kill after that treatment? “She just… She couldn't take any more.” He grits his teeth, forces out, “ _ I _ couldn't. She kept wanting to fight, but I just- That's not relevant, I'm sorry. Keeper Agruss,” and the name tastes like vomit and blood and electricity, “brought us up to the command center on the last day, and Dooku said he was going to execute us. When she called you on comms they were-”  _ kriff it _ , he has to get it  _ out _ , “-threatening me again. She decided we had to fight so you could free the colonists.” He almost lets it out, the private truth that he keeps to himself. The thing he can't admit, even to Ahsoka. “We fought them. When Agruss sabotaged the controls she… The slavers deserved every bit of what she gave them, sir, but she didn't feel like herself. After that, she got… cold.” Hopefully Anakin understands what he means by that. “She was going to kill him. He said she wouldn't, but I think… she would have.”

“But she didn’t?” Anakin says, and he sounds relieved. His eyes are hard and icy, though, and Rex thinks maybe his General hopes Ahsoka  _ did _ kill Agruss.

Rex holds up his hand, forestalling. He realizes it's shaking and quickly drops it back to his lap. “She said he made her abandon her principles in the mine,” and he can still hear it, the total hatred barely masking an undercurrent of pain, “she said they shouldn't have broken her.”

Anakin looks sick and Rex finally has to look away, look down at his hands. “I killed him. She was going to but I couldn't let her, I… it wouldn't have been right.” He remembers the staff driving into Agruss’ chest and has to stifle a surge of sick satisfaction.

“But how could she have-”

Rex doesn't even let him finish, he can't, he's tired of this. “Stop  _ asking _ that! They  _ broke _ us, General, they kriffing  _ did it _ . Of course she used the Dark Side, that's all they gave her  _ space _ for. Don't you dare reprimand her for it; I don't care if it wasn't right, none of what happened there was and she already can't karking sleep at night.”

Anakin flinches, stares at him, and Rex pulls back  _ fast. _ He shouldn't have said that much to his  _ General _ , but he can't stand the thought of Ahsoka getting in trouble for reaching for the Dark. They had been in hell - there had been nothing else to hold on to.

~~~

Anakin inhales sharply, closes his eyes. The Council would demand he at the very least reprimand her, possibly worse, and he can't--won't--allow that. He won't allow them to expel his Padawan over this. If it means keeping secrets from the Council, well… it's not like he doesn't already. “Rex…”

(There's so much _ pain,  _ there, and he finds he very much wants to destroy whoever and whatever made _ his brother _ hurt like this.)

His Captain looks up again, and in his golden eyes Anakin can see all the scars Kadavo left behind. “Yes, sir?”

“The Council can't know.” He's short, clipped, straight to the point. “What happened last night stays between us. No one else can know. Not even Cody or Obi-Wan,  _ vod,” _ and he uses the Mando’a word for _ brother _ in the hope that Rex will understand he's not saying this as a General, but as a friend. (And he grits his teeth and tries to hide the way his blood _ boils _ at the fact that those  _ sleemos _ broke his Snips.) “Rex,” and an idea flashes into his mind, so he lowers his voice and leans forward. “You're the only person who loves her more than I do, and I know I can trust you to have her back if the Council ever _ does _ find out.”

~~~

“I understand, sir,” Rex says, trying to conceal how he suddenly feels overwhelmed. In the privacy of his own thoughts, he’s always thought of Anakin as one of his  _ vod’e _ , but it’s not something he ever would have admitted. He’d thought it would be presuming too much.

But his General had called him  _ brother _ , after Rex had finally managed to explain Kadavo, after he’d told him he was  _ broken _ .

Does Anakin understand what he’s just said, what that word  _ means _ to him? If so, how is Rex supposed to accept that honor now? He does  _ not _ deserve it.

Never mind the implication that Rex  _ loves _ Ahsoka, which he doesn’t know how to respond to. He decides to ignore it and hope Anakin doesn’t assume that’s a confirmation. It’s more serious, what Anakin’s saying. That they have to protect Ahsoka, if the Council learns about the Son and the Darkness - that it might be mostly up to Rex.

“General,” he says, hesitantly, and Anakin leans forward, meets his eyes like he cares and this is why he doesn’t want people  _ seeing _ . It’s too vulnerable. “It was  _ too much _ . I just wanted it to stop and I don’t… I failed her.” He doesn’t quite say the rest of what he’s thinking, although he could, right now. But Anakin wouldn’t forgive him for it, so he keeps it to himself.

“You didn’t, Rex,” Anakin tells him, standing. Rex gets up too, but doesn’t take his eyes off the floor. “Neither of you failed anyone, it’s… We shouldn’t have done that mission.” He hears a surprising amount of bitterness and anger in Anakin’s voice and looks up, finds his own weariness and pain mirrored in his General’s eyes.

“Thank you, sir,” Rex says, lets it go at that. “I really do have duties to get back to.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you for telling me, Rex, I’ve been worried about her.”

Rex nods, hopes he doesn’t regret it. He wants to find Ahsoka, wants to make sure she’s okay.

~~~

Anakin can read Rex’s desire to leave, to  _ go, _ in his eyes; his Captain (his  _ vod) _ has bared half his soul to Anakin this afternoon and it’s clear he’s uncomfortable. “Go,” Anakin says, “check in on her.” He just barely refrains from asking Rex to send her  _ here; _ his Padawan will come to him on her own terms, and he just has to be patient.

Ugh, patience. He  _ hates _ being patient.

“Yes, sir.” Rex snaps out a salute, turns on his heel and marches out--leaving Anakin alone with his thoughts.

He  _ wants _ to reach out to Padme, but they’d both agreed they needed to stick to scheduled times except for emergencies--to keep him from contacting her in the middle of a Senate speech or her from reaching for him in the middle of a battle. He  _ can’t _ talk to Obi-Wan, as much as he’d like to be able to; Obi-Wan is a Master and on the Council and Anakin  _ hates _ it but his Master cannot be trusted with this. And he’s just resolved to  _ wait, _ to let Ahsoka come to him, so…

But he  _ can’t _ go back to his duties (which include a mission report the Council wanted  _ yesterday, _ but kriff the Council, they can wait); there’s too much  _ anger _ pent up inside him, too much  _ feeling, _ and he still wants to raze the entire Zygerrian empire to the ground, so he stands and goes to one of the doors in the walls of his room. There are two doors--the first leads to a private ‘fresher, and the second opens into the small, private salle he’d had constructed for him when he first took over command of the  _ Resolute. _

The lights flicker on when they register his presence, and he grabs his lightsaber (tries to pretend his hands aren’t shaking), takes up a stance in the center of the room, ignites the blade, and then he takes a deep breath and centers himself.

Ever since he was an energetic, fidgety nine-year-old new to the Temple, meditation has been  _ hard _ for Anakin; finally, after weeks of struggling to teach him, Obi-Wan had hit upon the idea of using ‘saber work (which he’s always loved) as a sort of moving meditation, and that’s what he’s done ever since.

He’s slow, controlled, precise as he moves through the forms--this is not training, not him attempting to increase his speed, his skill. Instead, he focuses wholly on his bright blue lightsaber blade, and as he progresses through the forms, falls deeper into the Force, he feels his anger ebb away like the retreating tide.

…

Ahsoka spends the morning working on paperwork.

The day before, Rex and a few other troopers had gone through and done a complete inventory of their arms and munitions; since Ahsoka’s still stuck on light duty for a couple more weeks and Anakin  _ despises _ paperwork, her Master has gleefully given her the task of filling out all the forms required to requisition more supplies. It’s tedious, mind-numbing work, and she spends far more time than she  _ should _ checking in on Rex (who, it seems, has been reduced to hiding in supply closets to avoid Anakin, though she’s not sure  _ why _ he’s avoiding her Master), ostensibly to make sure he’s alright. 

(The real reason is one she can’t even admit to herself: she’s terrified of being  _ alone _ in her head, of being cut off--of the Son coming back again.)

But by the end of the morning, the paperwork is no longer sufficient to distract her from the memories creeping up on her; with an explosive sigh, she drops the datapad on the desk and stands, stretches out muscles cramped from hours of sitting in one position.

She needs to  _ move. _

Her ‘sabers seem less intimidating, today, and she no longer feels the Dark whenever she touches them. Part of her wonders if this means the Son was influencing her. The rest of her is just grateful.

She swings by the mess to grab some lunch, listens as Fives recounts his woeful tale of attempting to flirt with Master Unduli on Coruscant. Apparently, the others sitting with them have heard the tale at least three times, now, because Tup spends the entire story muttering Master Unduli’s dialogue under his breath. Ahsoka laughs (it really  _ is _ amusing), offers her advice of seeking out Master Quinlan Vos next time, and politely excuses herself from the conversation. Today is a better day, certainly (and she attributes a good chunk of that to the fact she’d woken up still cocooned in Rex’s protective embrace), but there’s only so much time she can spend with the troops before she gets overwhelmed.

She makes her way to the salle, draws her ‘sabers, and takes a deep breath, centering herself in the Force. For the first time, her connection to the Force feels strong and true, warm and  _ alive, _ and she finds herself laughing, flooded with sheer  _ joy. _

(The memories try to come back, dark and full of pain and panic, but Ahsoka wears the Force like a cloak, like a shield, like armor, and for now, at least, she is  _ safe.) _

Smiling, Ahsoka settles into a stance and begins.

~~~

Soka’s mind feels safe and almost happy, and Rex doesn't want to interrupt her forms, but he's lost and the memories won't stop playing over and over in his head and he wants her. So he goes into the salle after knocking twice, barely blinks as Ahsoka’s yellow saber hums past his face. She finds that funny, he thinks, acting like she doesn't know he's walked in.

“Hello to you too, Soka,” he says lightly, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.

“Hey, Rexter.” She twirls her sabers and pivots, slashing both weapons down toward the floor. “Anakin finally caught you, huh?”

“Yeah.” Rex holds his shields around his and Anakin’s conversation, because there's so much there Ahsoka doesn't need to see.

“What did he want?” she asks.

Rex prides himself on how smoothly he lies, although he feels guilty. “I kriffed up an inspection and we got about a dozen extra sets of armor.”

He  _ thinks _ Ahsoka believes him. “That is pretty bad,” she says, snorting. “He's not that mad at you though, right?”

“No.” Rex can't believe it, that Anakin doesn't seem to blame him for any of it.

“So you ate lunch in a closet for nothing.”

Rex grumbles, wishing she hadn't noticed that. “Apparently, yes.” He hesitates, watches her leap into a somersault, can't help but admire the easy grace of her movements. “I keep seeing it today, Soka.” It's still hard to admit that, and he knows she understands.

She stops, turns to him, and shuts off her sabers. He looks down, ostensibly to peer at a smudge of paint on the back of his hand, actually because he feels guilty for bringing up all the pain and darkness when she's feeling happy.

She startles him by putting her arms around his waist, pulling him close. She soothes over the images he's been trying so hard to avoid, and he shivers. He wishes she wouldn't look at them - he doesn't want her getting lost in those same memories.

The worst now is the memory of Ahsoka screaming on the ground and not being able to reach her, not being able to even stand for the pain. Her screams and sobs seem stuck in his ears, and he wants it to go away because she's fine and safe now, but it  _ feels _ like he has to run to her still, has to fix everything.

Ahsoka reaches up and puts her arms around his neck (and her fingers brush lightly against his scar).  _ I'm right here, Rex. _

“I'm sorry,” he says, although he knows she doesn't like when he apologizes. “I wanted to help you, I tried, but I couldn't.”  _ I failed you _ , and he hears Anakin telling him neither of them failed, but if anyone  _ knew _ .

“I didn't want to give up, Soka, but they just kept  _ hurting _ you and the colonists and… and me and I'm not strong enough, I'm sorry.”

~~~

Ahsoka tightens her arms around Rex, gently runs her fingers over the thick band of scars around his neck. “You didn’t  _ fail, _ me or anyone else, Rexter,” she says softly, swallowing at the depth of  _ pain _ his words reveal. She surrounds him in warmth, strength and love and soothing forgiveness. “I  _ know _ you wanted to help.”

She closes her eyes, rests her head against his chest, even though his armor is hard and a bit uncomfortable under her cheek. She’s not sure  _ how _ to reassure him, how to get him to  _ understand _ that she doesn’t  _ blame _ him, no one does. Kadavo wasn’t their fault, even though on the worse days it  _ feels _ like it. “Nobody’s strong enough for that hell,” and today’s a good enough day she even believes herself when she says it. “Kadavo was designed to break  _ Jedi Masters.” _

Rex doesn’t respond aloud, but she catches an impression of a thought that’s the vague equivalent of  _ so? _

She pulls back, stares up at him. “To become a Jedi Master, you’ve got to have an  _ incredibly _ strong will, Rex. Like  _ Master Yoda _ levels.” Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but still. “Neither of us are anywhere  _ near _ that.”

Rex feels  _ thoughtful, _ and Ahsoka hopes that means he’s at least  _ considering _ the idea.

~~~

Rex doesn't know how to explain that it doesn't matter, in a way, what Kadavo was designed for, whether it was his fault or not, because it had still made him into someone he  _ hates, _ and he's afraid the cowardly part of him is here for good, afraid there will always be something in him that can't leave Kadavo.

He'd fallen short of everything he was supposed to be and he doesn't know where that leaves him.

“I was a coward, Soka,” he says softly, resting his hands on her hips, letting gratitude for her closeness bleed through the bond. “I can't forget that, and it doesn't change just because it wasn't ‘my fault.’ I still chose, I still- I really gave up. I didn't have to, but I…” He doesn't know how to say what he means, but he knows he  _ shattered _ when he could have pushed through, could have been a proper soldier and compartmentalized and dealt with it that way. He knows she sees those thoughts.

The rest of the admission still chokes him, and he swallows, tightens his shields around it.

~~~

“Rex…” 

Ahsoka swallows, falls silent. What is there to say? To a soldier, to a  _ clone _ especially, giving up is--huge. Even if no one else blames him, he still blames himself.  _ You aren’t superhuman, Rex, _ she tells him, even though she knows it won’t make a difference.

It doesn’t.

In fact, his thoughts are continuing to spiral--he feels selfish, like by giving up he’s somehow left behind all the principles, all the morals the  _ vod’e _ live by--and Ahsoka realizes, sickened, that her attempts at helping him justify his actions have just been making things worse. He keeps apologizing and she doesn’t think he did anything wrong, doesn’t think he has anything to apologize  _ for, _ but Rex believes it and…

_ Oh, Rex, _ and she traces his cheekbones before sliding her hands to the back of his head, pulling his forehead down to rest against hers.  _ I forgive you, Rex, for everything, and I’m sorry I broke. I’m sorry I failed  _ **_you_ ** _ and pushed you too far and used the Dark Side. I was--a terrible Jedi, but I promise I’m going to be better, for you. _ She hadn’t really meant to apologize, herself--Rex needs comfort, needs support, needs  _ help, _ and her own issues aren’t  _ helping, _ but…

She holds Rex close to her, pushes comfort and love at him, closes her eyes and just  _ breathes. _

~~~

_ I don't need you to be better, _ he thinks, adds privately that  _ he _ needs to be better, needs to find a way to live up to what she, and his men, and his General all believe he is. Maybe that will be enough someday, pretending. He runs his hand up her spine, lets himself respond to her apology instead of worrying more about himself. The mess in his head is too much to deal with, too much to look at.  _ Bad Jedi or not, you’re more than good enough for me.  _ He tries for humor, finds he’s too bitter to manage it:  _ Certainly too good for the Jedi Council _ .

Ahsoka’s response is a sort of reprimand, although he can tell she appreciates the comment nonetheless.  _ Well, I don’t need you to be better either, _ she thinks, pressing against his thoughts and shields a little. He pushes her back without thinking it through, and he probably deserves the look she gives him.

“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t lower his shields, and he can’t think of anything else to say. He didn’t want to do this again but he doesn’t know how to explain everything to her - and he has to admit, he mostly doesn’t want to try.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, and  _ kriff _ , she sounds hurt, and frustrated. “We said we’d be honest with each other, Rex, but it’s fine.”

It’s true, he’d made her promise, as good as promised himself, but he still bristles at the comment, has to stifle a sharp response as she pulls out of his arms and leaves the salle without another word; when he tries to push some better apology at her thoughts her shields don’t let it through. He swears softly and goes back to the barracks to spend some time with his men. Although he’s certain Fives is going to want to talk about Ahsoka and their relationship, which he (unfortunately) now has confirmation of. That will be better than being by himself, though.

~~~

Ahsoka leaves the salle in a huff, frustrated and bitter and unreasonably  _ angry. _ She  _ knows _ Rex just isn’t ready to talk about, well,  _ anything… _ but he’s being  _ dishonest _ with her now (lying about what he and Anakin talked about isn’t  _ huge, _ even though it bothers her a bit--he’s keeping the conversation so tightly shielded she  _ knows _ it wasn’t about whatever requisition mistake he claimed to make--it’s the way he won’t be honest about his  _ feelings, _ about how Kadavo affected him, still affects him), and he’d  _ promised. _

Maybe not promised outright, in words, but he’d implied it, and she’s surprised at how  _ hurt _ she is, how  _ betrayed _ she feels.

Rex tries to reach out to her across their bond, but she tightens her shields, doesn’t let him through. She doesn’t want more useless, pointless apologies, not right now.

But she doesn’t want to be  _ alone, _ either, and she knows he’ll go back to the barracks, so spending time with the men is out (not that she’s really in the mood to try and deal with that many people anymore). She hesitates, considers comming Barriss (but for all the friendship between them, Barriss is too much a true Jedi to  _ understand), _ and dismisses the idea almost immediately.

Ashoka sighs explosively, grumbling  _ very _ privately about  _ clones _ and ridiculously uptight Captains, doesn’t really pay any attention to where her feet take her; when she looks up from the floor and realizes she’s standing in front of Anakin’s door, she hesitates. She’s not sure she’s  _ ready _ for this conversation, for all that it’s been a long time coming.

But Rex is shutting her out, withdrawing even though she’s practically  _ begged _ him not to, and so she lifts one hand and knocks on the door, tries to pretend her hands aren’t trembling.

The door hisses open almost before her knuckles even touch the durasteel. “Snips?”

Anakin stands there, staring at her, eyes wide and worried, unsure. She musters a smile, faint and wan though it is. “Hey, Skyguy.”

It’s the first time she’s used her nickname for him since Kadavo, she realizes--and he  _ knows, _ too, if the shocked look on his face is anything to go by. “What’s wrong, Snips? Uh, you can come in?”

She has to smile a bit more earnestly at that. “Nothing’s wrong,” which is such a lie she doesn’t even know where to begin, “I just wanted to talk.”

Anakin closes the door behind her, gestures to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down,” he says, dropping to sit cross-legged on his bed. “What’s up?”

This is it--it’s now or never. Ahsoka  _ knows, _ instinctively, that if she redirects the conversation now, if she avoids him, avoids this, she’ll never get the courage to come back. So she takes a deep breath, steels herself. “Kadavo,” she says, and watches him still. “I want to tell you about Kadavo, Master, and--and then I want to know what happened to  _ you, _ and why you aren’t okay, either.”

Anakin takes a shaky breath, surprised, and manages a faint smile. “I’d like that, Snips.”

And she’s  _ scared, _ but Anakin--her  _ Master, _ her big brother in a way--is projecting warmth and comfort and strength, and she lets that wrap around her, give her the strength she needs to speak. “We woke up on a ship--Rex and I, and the Togrutan governor, I mean,” and she’s already shaking,  _ kriff, _ not good. “With collars on… they brought us out of the ship and in front of the command center, and Keeper Agruss made a speech about how it wasn’t  _ me _ who would suffer for my  _ defiance,” _ and she spits the word like it’s poison. “And then he--I don’t know, pressed a button or something, and seven colonists, seven of my  _ people, _ the floor disappeared from under them and they fell.”

Anakin draws in a sharp breath, pats the bed gently--she hears the unspoken invitation, leaves the chair to curl into his side.

“They would punish me, too, but there was always another slave there, or  _ Rex, _ and I tried to help them but every time I did they just got hurt worse.” And  _ kriff, _ but she’s crying; Anakin starts rubbing his hand in soothing circles on her back. “They figured out on the second day that Rex and I were more _ compliant _ when they threatened the other, but before that. That morning. There was a boy, younger than me, and he fell and I helped him up and--”

She can't _ breathe,  _ remembering the utter horror on his face when his collar kicked in, remembering how he _ screamed _ and thrashed like a fish out of water, mouth gaping open and closed as he struggled for oxygen. “They killed him because of _ me!”  _ she cries out, sickened (she'd as good as _ killed him herself), _ nausea rising inside her like a wave,  and she has to fling herself off the bed, sprint into the ‘fresher and vomit. (She feels Anakin’s hands gentle on her front headtails as he holds them out of the way, and she thinks he might be crying.)

“Easy, Snips,” he murmurs, “it's okay, you're okay.”

“I didn't even know his name,” she chokes out, gratefully accepting the glass of water Anakin hands her and rinsing her mouth out. “The _ Son _ had to tell me, how awful is that?” She lifts one hand,  forestalling an answer. “And then, in the control room, I--gave in, Master, I used the Dark Side, I almost killed an unarmed man in cold blood.”

She waits for him to condemn her, but instead he does something very different. “A couple years ago, I was having dreams of my mother, suffering  _ horribly.  _ For the longest time I did nothing, but while I was assigned to protect Padmè during the attempts on her life, I _ had _ to go. She'd been sold to another man who freed her and married her, but she'd disappeared a month before. I refused to believe she was dead.” He hesitates, swallows, and she can see self-hatred and guilt thick and choking in his blue eyes. “She'd been taken by Tusken raiders. I found her, cut her down from the frame they'd tied her to, and she died in my arms. It was the first time I'd seen her since I was _ nine _ years old. And then, Snips, do you want to know what I did next?” There's so much _ grief _ in his face she can barely breathe. “I killed every single one of the Tuskens. Men, women, children--I slaughtered them. Like _ animals.  _ I hated them, and I hated _ myself,  _ because all that violence, all that rage, and it couldn't bring my mother back. All my Jedi training couldn't save her.  _ I _ couldn't save her.”

“Anakin,” Ahsoka breathes, torn between shock and intense _ understanding,  _ “I'm _ sorry.” _

He smiles, twisted and rueful, more a grimace than anything else. “No, I'm the one who's sorry, Snips. You're a better Jedi than I'll ever be,” and he wraps her in a hug. “I'm so sorry I couldn't save you,” he whispers. 

Ahsoka smiles into his chest, though she's still softly crying. “Master, I think you just _ did.” _

~~~

That night, Rex leaves Fives and Jesse unhappily scrubbing a mountain of dishes and goes back to his quarters to sleep. Being with his men had distracted him, but almost the moment he's alone again, the heaviness is back.

He doesn't deserve his men’s trust and care, not even Fives’ (who had been  _ unbelievable _ this evening), and he's tired of putting on a bold face and smiling and shielding and lying.

But the truth would be harder to give them.

He goes into his quarters, strips off his armor and boots, and picks up his datapad where he'd left it on the one small table he has in his room. He has reports to read over and he might as well do it in relative comfort. He drops onto his bed with a groan and pulls up the first report on his screen. Truly fascinating reading - but at least it's a distraction.

He actually gets absorbed enough in his task that he's startled when there's a light knock on his door. He blinks and sits up, setting down his datapad. “Come in,” he says. He's a clone, and just a Captain at that - he doesn't get a lock on his door.

It's Ahsoka. He stiffens when he sees her, tentatively reaches for her mind and finds she reluctantly lets him in. He pulls down most of his own shields, just leaves up and hides the more important ones.

“Hey, Soka,” he says carefully.

“Hi,” she answers, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “I don't want to sleep alone.”

He's glad she came - he hadn't really wanted to be alone either. “Okay.” He lays back down, scoots to the side of his bed close to the wall and picks up his datapad again. Ahsoka walks over, her footsteps silent - she's barefoot - and climbs onto the bed with him, grabbing his blanket and pulling it up to her chin. She shifts so her feet press against his and he grumbles quietly because her feet are  _ cold _ . He thinks she still seems upset at him and he sighs, feeling guilty, but not enough to bring any of it up again. “I'm almost done with this report,” he says. “Then I'll go to sleep.”

She hums acknowledgement and closes her eyes. Her feet are too cold on his so he shifts away from them and sends her an annoyed  _ really? _

~~~

Ahsoka hums, presses closer to Rex, tucking her head beneath his chin; his arms wrap around her and he continues messing with his datapad behind her back. He's annoyed by her cold feet, but she could really care less.

Plus, she's still annoyed with him, so she's happening to take a sort of perverse pleasure in his discomfort. 

Rex presses a kiss to the top of her head, between her montrals, and she hums in pleasure and presses closer.  _ I'm still mad at you, _ she tells him, but she doesn't think he's very convinced. 

_ I'm sure you are,  _ he responds dryly, an undercurrent of amusement in his mental voice.  _ Go to sleep, Soka. _

After a few hours of training with Anakin, not to mention the draining, emotional conversation beforehand, she's tired enough not to argue. So she slips her cold feet between his calves (ignoring his hiss of displeasure), seeking warmth, and lets herself slide into sleep. 

~~~

As soon as Rex doesn't have reports or Ahsoka or his men or anything else to distract him, the memories tear out of the dark like Loth wolves, in vivid, inescapable detail. He'd hoped that they would lessen after talking to Anakin and Ahsoka, but although there had been a certain relief in that, here he is again, drowning.

There's so much he can't shake but it's Ahsoka’s pain that taunts him now, accompanied by memories of that  _ voice _ from the night before. He owes her better than he's given her but he  _ will not  _ let them see what he is.

Not even her, if she really doesn't know.

He shifts where he lays, holds Ahsoka tighter to block it out. But he can't, it all flashes in the dark in front of his eyes.

_ His Jedi being led into the arena, bent over with pain and exhaustion, and the horror of realizing they can't win against all the slavers. _

_ Trying to save Ahsri and the others and getting them whipped instead, and her still helping them later, even though he'd caused her pain. _

_ Ahsoka’s far away thoughts after they'd tried to fight and how selfishly he'd protested that he couldn't fight again, even though she needed him. How she took his pain, worked herself too hard, and he could only think about himself, dream for himself. _

_ Her falling into his arms when the guard lashed her across the headtails, her screams cutting off because she couldn't anymore. _

Rex tries closing his eyes, tries controlling and shutting down those thoughts, but they're well out of his control and he's starting to feel sick, hot with shame.

_ He begs her to just obey and survive (to not make them hurt him again, please) and she listens, tells Anakin he has to go. He shouldn't care about his own pain but he does and he's so so afraid they'll shock him again and he knows he'd beg, knows he'd grovel like a beaten dog and he just doesn't want any more of this. _

He can't stay here, he can't stay  _ still. _ Cursing, he carefully eases his arms away from Ahsoka, sits up and climbs over her legs, off the bed. She feels like she's still asleep, from what he can tell, so he pulls on his boots and a minimum of armor, straps on his gun belt, and leaves his room.

Maybe if he runs a few simulations he can tire himself out enough to sleep.

He lets the system choose its own settings, steps out onto the floor behind an obstacle, and raises his blasters. His heart pounds and he knows already he's going to freeze.

The simulation begins, guard towers going up on the sides of the arena, a maze-like set of walls going up, his target not even in sight. Other than the droids in the turrets, he doesn't see any others - they're probably waiting behind the walls.

He does fine to start, pushes past his fear and takes out the guns in the towers, the droids too, and starts for the combined safety and danger of the maze. But crouched behind a wall, he can  _ hear _ the clankers but not see them, and light is dim and he can't kriffing  _ focus _ when he stops moving. In the stillness the clankers’ footsteps turn into pickaxes on stone and Rex  _ growls _ , jumps up and runs into the maze because if he just keeps moving he's  _ fine. _ Except now he can't calculate fast enough and he runs straight into a small squad of droids, has to dive away, forget about shooting back, just get out of the line of fire. Sloppy. Kriff it. From his new position he can take them out fairly fast, but he can't stay here either because if he stops he's going to freeze.

His next mistake he isn't so lucky; he forgets to watch behind him until it's too late (he shouldn't be this kriffing careless) and three droids shoot him; the stinging training bolts singe his back and shoulders and the sim shuts down.

“Simulation failed.”

“ _ Kriff! _ ” He rolls his shoulders, storms back to the edge of the arena and resets the simulation to something hard.

His stomach twists and his heart pounds and the images won't go away.

_ I can't do a next time, Ahsoka. _

_ I'm not fighting, I won't. _

The simulation has two stories this time, with a bunch of destroyers firing down on him, and he swears because he really isn't prepared for this sim but he tries anyway, sticking to the limited cover this arena has, leaving his blasters in their holsters.

He thinks he hears someone scream and whips around without thinking, leaving his back exposed - the simulation ends again with stinging bolts singing his back and he can't  _ believe _ this.

“Simulation failed.”

Why can't he  _ do this _ anymore, he's kriffing  _ safe _ now, isn't he? Isn't that what he wanted so badly, to stay safe? Well he  _ has it _ now, he's fine, they aren't hurting him or Ahsoka anymore, so where does that  _ leave him? _

~~~

Ahsoka wakes up the second Rex gets up and starts putting on his armor, but she stays still, hoping he'll give up and come back to bed.

He doesn't, instead leaving the room; she swears, opens her eyes, and climbs out of the bed, grabbing her sabers. He's in such emotional turmoil he's forgetting to shield, and she picks up that his intention is to go run sims until he collapses from exhaustion. (She knows he has yet to successfully complete one, and that he's increasingly more frustrated and upset at himself about that.)

She arrives in the doorway just as he starts the first simulation, and he doesn't even make it halfway through. He immediately starts another one, fails within the first minute this time, swearing and _ angry,  _ all that anger and self-loathing directed at himself. He's constantly _ hating _ himself for giving up, for not being able to fight, and she'd known it was bad but she didn't realize it was _ this _ bad. 

“Rex, this isn't _ working.  _ You're just making yourself _ worse,” _ she says, stepping into the room. 

(It's only when Rex startles violently that she realizes she probably should've made a noise or something _ before _ speaking.)

~~~

Rex’s first thought is that he  _ doesn't want her here _ and he slams up shields, suddenly intensely aware of what a kriffing mess he is. “It helps,” he snaps, wanting to run back to his bunk and force his thoughts into some kind of order but he can't. “I've been training, it makes it easier; I'm just tired right now.”

She crosses her arms, gives him a disbelieving look. “Come  _ on _ , Rex. You've been running simulations ever since we got back from Coruscant. Can't you just talk to me?”

He hadn't thought she'd known about that and it suddenly occurs to him that she must know he's failed every kriffing sim he's attempted. The accompanying rush of shame makes him grit his teeth, force out, “What's there to talk about? I'm going to figure this out, I don't need- I'm  _ fine, _ so you can go back to bed.”

“ _ Shavit _ , Rex!” Ahsoka sounds less frustrated than worried - but she does still sound frustrated. “This isn't helping you, you're just getting more upset every time you don't complete a sim.”

It's true and he kriffing hates that it's true. What else is he supposed to  _ do? _ “And?” he hisses. “If I can't figure this out, I'll fail my men. I'll get reassigned or sent back to Kamino for reconditioning.” This is the one thing he has to be able to do and he  _ can't _ .

~~~

“Rex, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting different results.” Ahsoka huffs out a frustrated sigh. “Neither Anakin nor I have any intention of letting that happen, but you _ have _ to let us help you!”

“Maybe I don't _ want _ your help,” Rex snaps, and she _ knows _ he's upset, he's emotional, but  _ kriff _ the comment still _ hurts.  _

“Please, Rex,” she says, “don't shut me out. Don't hide from me. This is the same thing that happened after Umbara,” and  _ shavit, _ she's starting to cry. “Why won't you just _ talk?” _

~~~

He takes a step back, makes himself be less angry, although it's hard. She wasn't supposed to know about all this, about how he keeps failing and how he panics every time he tries to fight. “It isn't about you, Ahsoka. I can't.” Even with the feelings pulsing in his mind and the words trying to crawl up his throat he can't  _ tell her this _ .

“Why not?” she pushes, and her anger is fast being eclipsed by concern and disappointment. He feels stiff and frozen, angry and tired and useless.

“It doesn't matter,” he says, pulling back, shutting down automatically.

She doesn't let him. “It really  _ kriffing _ does, Rex.”

Of course it matters why he can't talk to her, he  _ knows _ that. It's just all so tangled and if he starts talking he doesn't think he can stop. He curls his hands into fists, feels his nails digging into his skin. He can't look at her.

“Can't you please trust me, Rex?” she says, and he shakes his head.

“It isn't like that, I don't- I told you, I'm not strong enough for-” Not strong enough to see what she’ll think of him. “I'm sorry.” He shakes his head again, because he just wants to go back to his bunk, just wants to stop this.

Her thoughts go distant, suddenly, and she looks at him like she's horribly disappointed, like she can't believe he's doing this.

_ You want to kriffing stop it, then do something. _

She starts to turn away and he knows, suddenly, that if he doesn't act this time he'll really have failed her, really be a coward. He reaches out, grabs her elbow, fights down nausea and panic. “I don't want you to hate me, Soka.”

~~~

Ahsoka doesn’t know  _ why _ she reacts the way she does, but it’s an instinct she can’t quite shake; she twists her arm out of his grip, turns back to the door. “I’ll never be able to hate you, Rex, and you  _ know _ that, so  _ please _ stop making excuses.”

She  _ wants _ to throw herself into his arms, to have him hold her tight and whisper that everything’ll be alright, but she  _ knows _ that’s a lie, that’s just delaying the inevitable, because  _ nothing _ is alright anymore. Kadavo was awful in every sense of the word, a literal hell, but at least while they were there she felt like Rex  _ trusted _ her.

And now?

Now it just feels like… there’s a distance, and she’s been  _ reaching _ for him, and instead of trying to reach back for her he hides away, like he’s  _ trying _ to push her away. There was a time when she thought she knew everything would be alright, in the end, even though that didn’t seem possible, because she had Rex by her side.

But now he’s gone, he’s pulled away from her, he’s left her  _ alone. _ (She can’t even  _ reach _ him, through their bond, and she has the horrifying thought that maybe he regrets it, regrets  _ this, _ all of it. After all, who would want a defective Jedi Padawan who isn’t even allowed to love?) She can’t even  _ pretend _ to understand what’s gone wrong, not truly, and the only thing she can think is she  _ needs Anakin, _ he’ll fix this, he’ll make it  _ right, _ somehow, because he always does.

Ahsoka keeps herself from dissolving into sobs with a herculean force of will, though she can’t completely keep the tears from her cheeks. And, of course, she knows her headtails are showing just how hurt and sad and  _ tired _ she is right now (she’s a huntress, her heart has chosen Rex as her  _ mate, _ that’s not something that’s easily broken), but she doubts Rex can read that language. (Anakin can, somehow, she’s never bothered to ask him why.)

She swallows, takes a careful breath that catches in her throat. “Just do me a favor, Rex--next time, don’t say you love someone unless you  _ really do,” _ and she starts walking, because she can’t  _ do this _ anymore, she can’t be here trying to see past the layers of shields, the lies, the half-truths, trying to figure out  _ what’s wrong _ and never  _ communicating. _ She  _ can’t, _ and maybe that’s a weakness, that she just isn’t  _ good enough _ to fix this on her own, or maybe it’s the Force telling her she’s not allowed to  _ act _ on her feelings (because she  _ loves him, _ that’s not going to just  _ go away), _ which, well… is possible, she supposes distantly.

She keeps walking, one foot in front of the other (she just has to make it to Anakin’s room, then she can fall apart, then she can  _ shatter), _ one step at a time.

~~~

Rex has been clinging to his armor and blacks and shields and fake smiles and duties ever since Kadavo, but in a horrible moment it all fractures and he's staring at Ahsoka’s back and for all his efforts to make sure she can't hate him, she's leaving anyway.

Something in him crumples, and he thinks he'd rather have her know it all and hate him for  _ that _ than leave thinking he doesn't care, doesn't trust her.

So with a tremor in his hands and a feeling of inevitability he demolishes his shields, even the smallest and most inconsequential, and  _ reaches _ , taking several long, fast strides towards her.

The truth rips out of him, easier than he'd dreaded, almost too easy. “I was going to let you fight alone.”

She stops, and although suddenly he feels sick and terrified he keeps going, has to. “In the command center, when you said we had to fight to save your people, I was never going to help.” His heart is pounding too fast. “I didn't break because of you or the colonists, I broke because it  _ hurt _ and I didn't want it to hurt anymore.” He's wanted to pretend there had been something noble in it all, but there hadn't been, it had just been him, wishing it would all end. He wants to put his shields back up because he can feel her reaching back, pressing lightly into his mind like she's trying to figure him out, but he doesn't. He feels like someone has cut his supports and he sways, feels like crumbling. “I'm supposed to protect, that's all I  _ know _ ,” he says, voice breaking. “But all I wanted to do was protect myself and that's what I still am, Ahsoka. That's why I couldn't talk to you, because I wanted… to protect myself.”

He goes silent, although that's worse because if he isn't speaking she might leave. Had she known she loved a coward or had he fooled her as thoroughly as he'd fooled everyone else?

~~~

Ahsoka stands there, frozen in place--she can barely even manage to overcome her shock enough to take advantage of the fact that  _ all _ his shields are down. She can’t  _ speak, _ can’t breathe enough to form words, and she just--she wants to  _ understand. _ So she reaches out, slips through his mind with a strange ease (he hasn’t been this open to her since they left the pit behind), sees the memories of Kadavo, of the command center, of just trying to  _ survive. _

He’s  _ panicking  _ behind her and she knows she should turn, should do something, should  _ say something _ but she doesn’t even know what to say, because--because--

“I never expected you to,” she chokes out, still not moving (she can’t). “To fight. It was your choice, I would’ve protected you either way…” and that’s  _ not helping _ but she doesn’t know what to  _ say, _ she doesn’t know how to  _ fix this. _ “How could I? I couldn’t ask you to fight, not again.”

She wants Anakin, she wants Padme--she wants someone who can make this better, who will know the words to say--but there’s no one, just her. She’s  _ alone _ and she doesn’t know what to  _ do. _

“You shouldn’t have had to ask,” Rex says, his voice as jagged-edged as she feels, and for some reason that undoes her.

“You’re a  _ person, _ not a droid,” she says,  _ finally _ manages to turn, to stare at him, “you can’t  _ always _ fight.” And she wishes, for once, that she had bothered to learn something  _ besides _ fighting, because maybe then she would know the right words, she’d be able to understand, but she’s a warrior and she’s never been one for  _ tact. _ (And she’s still crying, can’t seem to stop, which only makes this  _ worse. _ She  _ kriffing hates _ crying.) “A-all I wanted was for you to  _ trust _ me, Rex, to trust in the fact that I  _ love _ you.”

~~~

He's sinking in on himself, feels his shoulders curving forward, his chest tightening. But he thinks from what he feels of her thoughts that she doesn't hate him (of course she doesn't) and it's a relief, a weight gone.

“I did,” he says softly, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears. “But you… I didn't think you loved a coward, you thought- I don't want to be this, Ahsoka, I want to be what you think I am but I'm not. I thought I was but I… Kriff, Soka, I don't know.”

He's not at all what he thought he was and it  _ hurts _ .

~~~

She  _ tries _ to keep her distance, because she still might have to  _ go, _ if this doesn’t get fixed--if she can’t figure things out, what other choice will she have?--but the raw  _ anguish _ on Rex’s face and in his mind  _ pulls _ on her, calls to her, and before she really can think about it she’s stepping closer to him again (like a wandering planet drawn back into orbit around its star). One hand lifts of its own accord, comes to rest on his cheek, runs lightly over his skin, over the lines of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“You’re right in one thing,” Ahsoka says, very softly, and she  _ hopes _ he doesn’t misunderstand her. “I  _ don’t _ love a coward.” She gives that just a moment to sink in, then continues. “I--you’re one of the strongest, most courageous  _ men _ I’ve ever met, Rex, Jedi or Senator or clone or  _ anyone. _ I don’t love you because you’re some kind of perfect soldier, and if you decided tomorrow that you couldn’t fight a seemingly  _ pointless _ war no one wants anymore, if you told me you wanted to leave, I’d  _ go with you.” _

~~~

Rex leans against her hand, still finds he's scared to meet her eyes because he shouldn't get to do that. “What if I'm not?” he whispers, reaching up and putting his hand over hers, leaving it at that.

Ahsoka hesitates, and he has to meet her eyes, has to press close to her thoughts to reassure himself. “You are though, Rex,” she says, simply. “At least, you want to be, and always try to be, and I think… I think it's the same thing.”

He closes his eyes and swallows, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm of her hand. It shouldn't feel so important, what she's said, but he's been so  _ tired _ , trying to hold it together for so long, and he wants her to be right. “I'm sorry, Ahsoka,” he says, and she deserves this apology, because whatever he wishes he'd done he's been lying and hiding for a long time.

He feels his eyes sting with tears and he's shaking and he just wants to rest, after all this.

~~~

“I know you are,” Ahsoka whispers, has to close her eyes a moment against a new wave of tears, because she can finally  _ feel _ him again, right there next to her mind like he belongs, and she hadn’t even realized how  _ much _ was missing until it’s all back. “I forgive you, Rex, I always do.” There’s a pause, and she feels how  _ tired _ he is, how tired  _ she _ is, too; she moves her hand from his cheek to the back of his head, stands up on her toes and brings him down to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

He’s just staring at her, in awe and apology and there’re tears there, too, and she wipes one away as it begins to fall. “You aren’t alone,” she tells him, hopes maybe he understands. “Come back home.”

Because  _ home _ isn’t a  _ place, _ not anymore, not for her; home is wherever  _ he _ is. And she  _ wants _ him to understand, to see that--to  _ know, _ so she shows him, soft and careful, and then she takes his hand and leads him from the training arena.

He doesn’t protest, follows her without complaint as she takes him back to his quarters, helps him tug off the armor he’d donned earlier, set his blasters down on the floor. “I missed you,” she breathes, pulling him into a tight embrace the instant he’s in just his blacks; she presses her montrals against his chest, listens to the sound of his heart beating strong and steady in his chest. It’s been  _ too long _ since she could feel him like this. Too long.

_ Please don’t go away like that again, _ she begs him silently, because she doesn’t know if she can  _ do this _ again.

~~~

_ I won't, _ he says, dares to add,  _ I promise _ . He chases the love and forgiveness he feels in her thoughts, thinks he's probably leaning on her too much. But he's tired and the memories still won't quite leave him alone, so he kisses the top of her head and pulls partway free of her arms to go back to bed. She hangs onto his waist and comes with him, and he knows she can tell he's more or less relying on her support to stay in one piece.

She pulls the blanket over both of them, and he puts his arm around her, pulls her flush against his chest and kisses her forehead, the tear stains on her cheek. “I'm sorry,” he whispers again, even though he doesn't really have to. She sticks his cold feet against his legs again and he grumbles softly, curves his hand over the back of her montrals where he can feel the ridges of scars.

“I know, I forgive you,” she answers, waves of soft certainty easing into his thoughts. He feels exhausted and vulnerable and small, but she's here and all his fears were so  _ stupid _ and for once he feels like this might all still be okay.

He feels her suddenly notice his conversation with Anakin and she pauses on that for a little too long and he can tell she's  _ not happy _ with him, at all. So he pushes the desperate promise he'd given Anakin at her, says,  _ Please wait till tomorrow and let me explain then. _

~~~

_ Okay, _ Ahsoka agrees, because he said he’d explain and she has to trust he will. And it  _ does _ bother her, a little, that he’d made the promise--that he’d told Anakin about her, about her using the Dark Side, without  _ asking, _ but…

But she  _ does _ understand why he’d made the promise, at least, and Anakin isn’t the type to let something like that  _ go, _ so… so she can wait until tomorrow, can let Rex  _ explain. _

The memory of the conversation with Anakin leads back to a memory she can’t place, even though she’s in it: she sees  _ herself, _ sitting in Anakin’s bed--taunting him? A wave of revulsion sluices over her as she realizes it’s the  _ Son, _ using her to try and get to her Master once again, just like on Mortis. So  _ this _ is what was happening while she was trapped inside that awful endless  _ nothing, _ she muses, while the Son was suffocating her. (She knows Rex can see those memories, if he looks, can see  _ everything, _ including the conversation she’d had with Anakin just a few hours ago, but the prospect has never bothered her. She trusts him, after all.)

~~~

Rex wakes up from a deeply restful sleep, slowly, like he does when he's certain he's safe. He stretches, and his hand connects with someone's leg. Right, Ahsoka. He cracks his eyes open and presses his mind against hers to see if she's awake. “Good morning,” he mumbles, running his hand over his head. There's a frankly horrible taste in his mouth and his head  _ hurts _ but he's too lazy to care. Ahsoka feels kind of impatient and he opens his eyes wider, turns his head to look at her. She's sitting up and giving him a  _ look _ and it makes him just anxious enough that he pushes himself up onto his elbows. “Something wrong, Soka?” His voice is rough with sleep and dehydration and he clears his throat.

“I just want to make sure you aren't going to run off and hide in a maintenance closet again,” she says, dryly, and he groans.

“I'm not going to,” he grumbles, sitting up the rest of the way. He can't help but think to himself that he was  _ not _ hiding in the closet yesterday, and he knows Ahsoka hear that because she snorts, disbelieving. “Although I am going to the ‘fresher.”

He slides out of bed, hissing as his bare feet meet the metal floor, and walks away, his still-drowsy thoughts mostly grumbling ones.

(There's nervousness there too, about talking to her, but he ignores that. He doesn't have the energy for it.)

He washes his face and swallows enough water to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth - the cool water on his face helps his headache a little, but not much. When he walks back into his room, Ahsoka is sitting cross-legged and expectant on his bed, one eyebrow arched at him.

~~~

“So,” Ahsoka starts, when it’s clear Rex isn’t going to just  _ volunteer _ the information. “It’s tomorrow.” Rex smiles a little at that, a  _ so it is _ feeling crossing the bond, and she rolls her eyes. “You said you’d explain that conversation with Anakin. The one you lied to me about.”

She’s  _ not happy _ about this. She’s really  _ not. _ Even though she feels lighter this morning than she has in  _ weeks,  _ even though she finally feels like maybe  _ healing _ isn’t so impossible now.

“I did,” Rex agrees, sitting down on the bed across from her. He looks  _ tired, _ although she thinks maybe not quite as bad as he did yesterday.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, and Ahsoka forces herself not to fidget. She can be patient, she can wait. Really. Honestly.

~~~

When Rex thinks about it, he’s sure his reasons are going to sound flimsy at best, and he really doesn’t want to say them out loud - but he promised, and she’s  _ upset _ and he owes her this. He’d known telling Anakin wasn’t really a good plan at the time but, well. “General Skywalker got distracted,” he says, sighing and twisting his hand into the blanket so he can sit still. “You were  _ gone _ and the Son kept taunting him and telling him you didn’t trust him and said you used the Dark Side, and the General got stuck on it.” Rex doesn’t really blame him but it had happened anyway, at the worst possible time. “I couldn’t  _ do anything _ , Soka, and I was terrified and then the General wasn’t focusing and I just wanted him to get the Son out of you.”

He can’t figure out what Ahsoka is thinking; she looks and feels like she’s carefully reserving judgement until he’s finished talking, and he rubs his eyes with one hand. “I’m sorry, Soka, I didn’t think. I just… you really hadn’t told him anything and he was worried and we couldn’t feel you. And then I thought maybe it would help, if he knew.”

Maybe he’d thought a little that if he told Anakin about Ahsoka, and by extension, himself, it would make everything better. He’s not sure, but he’d promised in the heat of the moment and most everything after that is just his own justification of the promise. “I thought he deserved to know, I guess, I- I didn’t know how to help you with the Force and I thought he could.”

~~~

Ahsoka tilts her head to one side, considering. It makes  _ sense; _ really, she’s not all that upset about his promise, or the fact that he  _ upheld _ his promise. “You did what you needed to do to get Anakin to  _ focus, _ and I can’t fault you for that,” she tells him. “I just don’t understand why you  _ lied _ about it. Why didn’t you just tell me? I  _ knew _ the excuse you gave me was a lie, because of how tightly you shielded the memory.”

Rex shifts his weight, like he’s uncomfortable, and she can feel him  _ force _ himself not to fidget. “I…” and he actually looks  _ sheepish, _ “I was afraid of how you’d react--I didn’t want you to hate me, Soka.”

_ That seems to be a reoccurring theme, _ she projects dryly, amused despite the seriousness of the conversation. Aloud, she adds, “I hope you’ve figured out by now that you don’t have to worry about me hating you.”

Rex smiles, rueful. “I think so.”  _ I don’t deserve you, _ his thoughts echo, and she doesn’t think he  _ meant _ for her to hear but she can’t help but pick up on it.

She has no idea how to help, how to fix this misconception of his, so instead, she sends back,  _ No, you don’t. You deserve every single word of the scolding you’re going to get as soon as the  _ vod’e _ hear of this. _

(Her face is completely straight, but she can’t quite keep the amusement from projecting with her words.)

(She can’t  _ wait _ to see the look on his face when Fives shows up.)

~~~

Ah, kriff. Rex thinks the curse  _ strongly _ , and she laughs out loud. He doesn’t want to tell his  _ vod’e _ about this any more than he’d wanted to tell her - they rely on him, trust him, especially after Umbara, and he does  _ not _ want to shake that trust. He’s not being proud when he says they  _ need _ him - he’s their brother and their Captain and he has always, always looked out for them even when nobody else did.

He’s never going to let them down, not if he can help it, and he wants them to  _ know _ that.

“You’re asking a lot of me in a very short amount of time,” he says, wishes it didn’t bother him so much.

“I’m not asking,” she says, and  _ that _ makes him feel more bitter than it really should. He crosses his arms, leans back a little, and tries  _ very _ hard not to look as frustrated as he feels.

“It isn’t like with you, Soka, they  _ have  _ to have confidence in me or we can’t fight,” he says. “When it comes down to it, it’s my job to keep them safe, and they have to believe I’m going to do that.”

“They do,” she says, crossing her arms too and projecting frustration. “We all  _ know that _ , Rex, and you have to trust them with some of this.”

“I don’t want to jeopardize unit cohesion,” he snaps, and something warm and sharp in his gut says he’s  _ making excuses _ . But he already had trouble facing his men after Umbara and he doesn’t know how he can after this. “They shouldn’t have to be worrying about me and whether I’m going to freeze or panic or give up, Ahsoka, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, they’re all worrying about you anyway, you know.”

He swears again, out loud this time, because he  _ knows _ that, but he doesn’t want to sit down with the people he  _ protects _ and tell them he’s  _ selfish _ , that’s just kriffing stupid. They deserve better than that.

He opens his mouth to protest again but is cut off by a loud knock on his door; he recognizes the knock, knows it’s a brother. He turns, swings his legs out of the bed so it at least  _ looks _ like he and Ahsoka could have been having a casual conversation (although there’s little chance that Fives hasn’t already told the entire battalion that he was right and their Captain and Commander are an item).

“Come in,” he calls, and the door slides open to reveal the devil himself, Fives, eyebrows drawn together in an expression that Rex instantly knows means trouble. Kix, standing behind him, doesn’t look much happier.

“You wanted to talk to me, sir?” Fives says, and Rex definitely did  _ not _ .  _ Kriffing hells _ .

~~~

Ahsoka  _ grins, _ knowing she’s enjoying this  _ far too much _ but really unable to stop. “Yes, he  _ does,” _ she says, giving Rex a meaningful look that he tries (unsuccessfully) to ignore. “Don’t you, Rex?”

“Not really,” Rex grumbles, giving her a Look that clearly says  _ we’re going to Talk about this later; _ she keeps smiling, unperturbed.

Fives looks back and forth between them for a moment, a slow grin widening across his face. “Commander, did you steal his comm?”

Ahsoka raises her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Guilty as charged,” and  _ kriff _ she knows this is going to be hard, but she can’t help enjoying this while she can.

Behind Fives, Kix shifts a little, like he’s unsure about the whole thing. “We can go, Captain,” he starts to offer, and she doesn’t know if Rex will take Kix up on that offer or not but she decides not to give him the chance.

So she cuts Kix off. “Rex, why don’t you tell them about the training sims you’ve been running whenever you have free time, sometimes straight through the night?”

~~~

Rex grits his teeth and stands, settles his arms behind his back where his men won’t see how tightly he’s clenching his fists. “It’s fine, Kix,” he says, although he doesn’t feel at  _ all _ fine. He doesn't want to do all this again.

“ _ Do _ you want to tell us about those sims, sir?” Fives says, and he doesn't sound pleased.

“Not particularly,” Rex snaps, then sighs. “I've just- There was some difficulty after our last mission and I've been trying to deal with it.”

Kix and Fives noticeably go still, get more serious at the mention of his “last mission” - the one he's been stubbornly refusing to talk about for  _ weeks _ . Rex doesn't close off his connection to Ahsoka, but he does ignore it, because he has to be able to do this his own way, and he's  _ angry _ about it. “What kind of...?” Fives glances at Ahsoka, like he's trying to figure out if she knows anything about it. “Difficulty, Rex?”

Rex clenches his fists tighter, stubbornly refuses to shift or look away - he's not a kriffing shiny.

“Battle jitters,” he says tensely, then has to elaborate because he knows that isn't good enough. “I haven't completed a single simulation.”

Fives’ eyes go wide and Rex wants to take it back. “ _ You _ , sir?” the ARC trooper says, and Rex scowls.

“Yeah. I always- I freeze. Think I see things that aren't there.”

“All due respect, Rex, but  _ why? _ ” Fives asks, and Kix gives him a look, although Rex can tell he wants to hear what he has to say. Kix knows better than any of his men what's wrong with Rex, although even he knows precious little.

Rex shifts his weight lightly from foot to foot before answering. He starts explaining the actual events on Kadavo, projecting gentleness and calm at Ahsoka, even as he finds himself feeling sick and vulnerable again, ends up looking at the floor, shoulders tense, as he tells them as clinically as he can how  _ much _ had happened. He's grateful that neither of his friends say anything as he's talking, although whenever he glances up at them they both look  _ furious _ .

But when he gets to explaining Agruss’ shock collar and everything that happened after, he has to stop and shake his head, because he's drowning a little and he can't  _ do this _ . Ahsoka soothes peace over the memories, eases love and understanding through the guilt, and he takes a second to  _ breathe _ .

“It didn’t stop,” he says evenly, at least glad his voice doesn’t shake. “I woke up restrained - I think I was leverage against Ahsoka.”  _ Like all the rest of the time _ . “I told her I couldn’t fight again.” He looks up, finds Fives looks somewhere between angry and lost. This time he keeps his head up, meets both of their eyes. “There was nowhere to go,” and although he knows he looks strong, firm, he’s desperate for them to understand. “I needed to survive.”

When he doesn’t continue right away, Kix takes a step towards him, arms unfolding from across his chest. “Rex,” he says, voice clipped, “What are you trying to say?”

Rex’s chest is caving in and he feels hardened into stone, afraid to move because if he does he might just shatter again. “I let them hurt the colonists,” he says, “because I didn’t want to get hurt anymore.” It’s easier to say the second time, if only barely. This time, because he’s looking his men in the eyes, he sees the shock and confusion clear as day in their eyes before they can hide it.

“Sir?” Fives says cautiously, clearly trying to figure everything out. “I don’t- You mean because of Commander Tano?”

That had been part of it but that is  _ not _ what Rex means and he swallows, rolls his shoulders back to try to ease the tension that seems trapped in them. Ahsoka’s mind is so close to his, and he clings to her nearness. He wishes he had his armor, but it wouldn’t help him, anyway. “No, Fives, I meant what I said.”

His friend stares at him, hard, frowning, and Rex is  _ panicking _ but he stifles that for now.

Kix, ever the tactful one, seems just as confused, but at least he  _ says _ something. “No offense, Captain, but… that doesn’t sound like you.”

Rex can’t help it, he  _ laughs _ , closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Thank you for your confidence, Kix,” he says, knows he sounds  _ bitter _ , “but it’s misplaced this time. I gave up and almost didn’t fight them in the end, and I still can’t fight  _ now _ .”

His men’s expressions are indecipherable (which is  _ highly _ unusual for Fives), and he finally has to drop his eyes again. They’re silent for too long and he wants to tell them to forget it, wants to go run another kriffing simulation.

It’s Fives who speaks first, voice rough with anger. “You know,  _ vod _ ,” he says. “Who gives a damn?”

Rex blinks, looks up, releasing a disbelieving huff of laughter. “I’m sorry?”

“You kriffing heard me. Who gives a shit?”

“Well I do, for one,” Rex says, oddly offended.

“And?” Fives crosses his arms, shrugs expressively. “You’re too kriffing noble all the time anyway, it was getting old.”

“What he means,” Kix says, lips twitching into a small smile, “is that we don’t care if you gave up or almost gave up or any of that.”

“But you-”

“Oh, for kriff’s sake, shut  _ up _ ,” Fives snaps. “Let him finish.”

Rex shuts up. He feels weirdly light, very confused, and maybe relieved.

“Sir, you’re our Captain and our brother.” Kix glances past Rex at Ahsoka and shifts awkwardly. “You saved the Togrutans and you’re back, and you haven’t let us down yet. So all due respect, but I think I’ll decide whether my confidence is misplaced or not. And sir… You know we'd all follow you. If it came down to it, we'd choose your orders every time.” Kix glances at Ahsoka again. “Even over the General’s, sir. We trust you and that's not going to change just because you think we shouldn't.”

“Besides, it’s about time you failed a simulation,” Fives grumbles, scratching his goatee. “It’s not kriffing  _ fair _ that you always beat them.”

Rex snorts and shakes his head, finds himself having to swallow back tears. To think that they trust him  _ more _ than General Skywalker, the best General they could have... How? “You don’t… I don’t understand.”

“That’s okay,  _ vod _ .” Fives reaches out and pats his shoulder, awkwardly. Rex wants to grab him into a tight embrace, a thank you, but the  _ vod’e _ don’t really do things like that with other sentients around. It’s too personal. “You don’t have to understand, just stop being so kriffing stupid.”

~~~

Ahsoka leans against the wall, a silent observer, though she sees Fives and Kix glance at her from time to time. She understands why, she thinks; she’s not  _ vod’e, _ not one of them. In fact, she’s a  _ Jedi, _ and even though she’s  _ their _ Jedi there’s still a gulf between them the men never seem to be able to completely cross. So she sits and watches and waits, offering Rex support when he needs it. 

Thank the Force she’d thought of this idea. She’s not sure Rex would’ve really  _ understood _ without his men telling him, in plainer words, everything she’s been  _ trying _ to say for weeks.

“Come on, sir,” Fives says, and shoots Ahsoka a grin and a  _ look. _ “Sorry, Commander, but it’s our turn. Rex, get dressed. And don’t forget your bucket!” he adds with a grin. “I think your jaig eyes are looking a little faded.”

Ahsoka smiles, gives Rex a little mental ‘push’. “Just give him back in one piece, Fives,” she says, and Fives salutes.

Then, ignoring Rex’s token protests, Kix and Fives help him get into his armor and practically  _ drag _ him out into the corridor, probably heading for the barracks, Ahsoka thinks; she keeps the smile on her face until they’re gone and then gently pulls up a few light shields between her mind and Rex’s.

(She tells herself it’s just so she doesn’t distract Rex while he spends some well-earned time with his men, now that he finally realizes they  _ don’t hate him. _ But she knows herself well enough to know that’s an excuse.)

The memories are too fresh, too vivid today; it’d been a good morning when she woke up, but after having to listen to Rex recount their time in Kadavo, all the pain, the horror, lingers at the top of her mind. She can’t quite swallow it down, even as she returns to her own quarters to trade her loose sleep shirt for her dress and to slide her boots on. Before, she would’ve been  _ afraid _ to pick up her ‘sabers on a day like today, when she can feel so clearly everything that made her reach for the Dark Side in the first place (she would’ve done it anyway, but it’s so much  _ harder _ to practice forms when you’re afraid of the weapons in your hands).

But today there’s no insidious whisper of cold fear in her mind, though she still feels almost trapped, though she could nearly swear there’s a collar around her neck. Today the cool touch of her ‘sabers in her palms feels like strength, like  _ victory. _ Kix was right, and so was Fives, she realizes--they don’t  _ care. _

The Council would--will--care, about the Dark Side, about her  _ breaking, _ but the Council can go kriff itself, really (except Master Obi-Wan). Her men (her brothers, even if they don’t think of her as one of their own) are the ones whose opinions she wants,  _ needs _ so desperately; her men and her Master.

And her men aren’t afraid; they won’t hate her, or refuse to follow her, or be cowed like they were by Krell. She’s  _ not Krell, _ even if she  _ did _ use the Dark Side  _ (the Dark was all they gave her, _ she remembers Rex telling Anakin in that conversation he’d hidden away, and she realizes how  _ true _ those words are), and she never will be.

Once, her ‘sabers felt like pain, like  _ fear. _

Today, they feel like  _ freedom. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, guys, the purely fluffy end chapter you've been waiting for which we have all earned tbh. We have a few oneshots coming for you guys and then the next project is the "Wrong Jedi" arc - which of course will be very fun. We've set ourselves up for a rollercoaster of a fic.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with us, y'all are the best!

“They invited  _ us _ to a  _ feast? _ ” Rex asks, for the third time in fifteen minutes.

“Yes, Captain Rex,” Padmè says patiently, starting to seem amused by his inability to process. “They specifically asked for you, Padawan Tano, and Generals Skywalker and Kenobi.”

Rex just can't quite believe that the Togrutans actually invited  _ him, _ a clone, to a  _ feast _ . In company with his Jedi.

“He'll figure it out,” Anakin says, laughing. “Come on, Rex, this is a good thing, you'd think you could smile.”

Rex doesn't smile because Anakin is insufferable, and he's still confused, but Ahsoka is grinning at him in that way she has, when her eyes sparkle and she looks like she's trying not to laugh.

“Sure, General,” Rex says, knowing he's gone kind of red. “But sir, why?”

“Oh my Force, Rex,” Anakin groans dramatically. “It's a feast. You know, a party.”

“I know, but why did they invite  _ me _ ?”

Padmè answers that question, smiling at him like she gets it. “Because you helped get them off Kadavo, Captain.” Rex can tell that if it weren't for the fact that General Kenobi is here, Ahsoka would kiss him right now. He doesn't quite know why but he wouldn't complain.

~~~

Ahsoka can't help but wish Master Obi-Wan wasn't here so she could kiss Rex. The look of confusion on his face is, quite frankly,  _ adorable.  _

“I love parties!” she says with a grin. “We haven't been to a good party in _ ages,  _ Master.”

Anakin lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Blame the Council for that one, Snips.” Despite the almost bitter words, his eyes sparkle and he looks happier than she's seen him in ages. Which she's sure is at least partly due to Padmè’s presence by his side. 

“Are you coming with us, Senator Amidala?”

Padmè nods, smiling. “Yes, I'll be Anakin’s plus one for the night,” and she looks over at Anakin, a soft, tender look in her eyes. 

(Master Obi-Wan is either blind, or knows more than he lets on.)

“You two should go get ready,” Anakin says, and Ahsoka decides to test her theory, grabbing Rex’s hand to lead him away. 

Master Obi-Wan doesn't even blink. 

~~~

Anakin convinces Rex (fairly easily) to let him and Padmè get him something to wear to the feast since, as Anakin tells him, “You can't wear  _ blacks _ to a feast, Rex.”

Rex wishes he  _ had _ worn his blacks, because this new coat is long and stiff and there's  _ embroidery _ on it. At least it covers the scars on his neck and looks as close to military as civilian clothes could get, but he feels, on the whole, incredibly uncomfortable. The only thing that helps are the jaig eyes stitched on the cuffs of his coat, which Anakin had pointed out to him with a proud smile that had just a hint of hopeful concern. “I hope that's okay,” he had said, and Rex had traced his fingers over the markings, smiling.

“Yeah  _ vod _ ,” he'd said. “It's great.”

It is great, still, but he's feeling anxious because there was nowhere under this ensemble to hide a blaster pistol, so it all amounts to him walking unarmed and vulnerable into unfamiliar territory.

He feels Ahsoka laughing at his discomfort and he sends her a bitter look, which is hard because his Jedi looks  _ stunning _ . And she's carrying one of her sabers openly on her belt, so it's really not remotely fair. Her dress is blue, same color as her eyes and the paint on his armor.

_ This is going to be fun, Rex, calm down, _ she tells him, although he can feel the same anxious energy humming in the back of her mind as he feels.

While they were on Kadavo, some of the colonists had looked at them so bitterly, as if wondering why they insisted on fighting. Surely some of them still blame him and Ahsoka for their pain.

And even if they don't, Rex is a little afraid seeing all the colonists again will bring some of the worst memories back in vivid detail. But at least if it does he knows he'll be able to manage.

_ I don't belong at a feast with a bunch of artists, Soka. What am I supposed to talk to them about? _

~~~

_ I don't know, I'm not exactly an artist either,  _ Ahsoka says back with a little grin. She looks Rex up and down, her smile growing.  _ You look very nice,  _ she adds, brushing her fingers over the jaig eyes embroidered on the cuffs of his coat. 

The dark coat with its blue embroidery is hands down the nicest thing she’s ever seen Rex wear, and the colors bring out the gold in his eyes; she takes a furtive look around, sees the lack of any Jedi Masters, and leans in to give him a quick kiss. “Just  _ enjoy _ yourself, Rex. There’ll be  _ dancing _ after the feast, too. It’ll be fun!”

Rex gives her a  _ look, _ like her definition of fun is vastly different from his. “I don’t dance,” he says flatly, although there’s a little curve at the corner of his mouth, and she can feel his amusement. 

_ “Rex,” _ she (almost) whines, pouting, but he shakes his head, and she huffs. “Fine, I’ll just dance without you, then.”

She checks her reflection in the mirror. The jewel-toned 501st blue dress has an airy, light skirt that reaches to midcalf and a sleek, form-fitting bodice with a halter top. The open back and lack of collar show her scars, and even a couple of weeks ago she would’ve felt  _ vulnerable, _ or afraid; part of her still does, is still nervous about walking around with the evidence of Kadavo there for everyone to see, etched across her skin, but she’s going to be around possibly the only other people who will  _ understand, _ people who have the same scars as she does.

Her green saber is hooked to her belt, her yellow saber left behind on the  _ Resolute;  _ she tries not to be too worried about being without both weapons. It’ll be  _ fine. _ This is a  _ party, _ after all, and Kiros is a neutral system. The war won’t reach her here.

That doesn’t make it any easier to completely dispel the nerves.

Ahsoka takes a deep breath, adjusts her akul-tooth headdress, offers Rex a shaky smile. “How do I look?” she asks, twirling for him.

_ Snips, transport’s leaving in five, _ Anakin warns at the back of her mind.

~~~

_ How does she look? _ Is she being serious? Rex rubs the back of his neck, clears his throat, tries not to feel like he’s completely out of his depth (too late). “You- Kriff, Ahsoka. You look good.”

_ Good? Kriffing good? _ Little gods he is  _ awful _ at this. He knows Ahsoka hears his thought though, because she’s laughing and that makes it worse, so he sighs and shakes his head, grinning. “I know, sir. I’ll shut up.”

He tries to make up for it by projecting how happy he actually is to be doing this (even if now apparently his night is going to have to include dancing), how he doesn’t want to stop looking at her, how she looks  _ really kriffing good _ in that color.

She laughs again, but she isn’t laughing  _ at _ him, and he looks around once before cupping her face between his hands and kissing her, hard and fast.  _ I’m still not dancing _ , he hums, catching her thinking it.

“We have a transport to take, you idiot,” she grumbles, pushing him back.

He rolls his eyes but straightens, runs his fingers over the jaig eyes again.  _ I’m not sure I’m ready for this _ , he admits. The Togrutans have invited them to thank them, but Rex still doesn’t really feel like he deserves to be thanked for saving them - mostly he feels like he let them down.

But Kix had told him to just  _ accept _ this and Fives had told him a few too many things about what he should do to  _ celebrate _ (sometimes he thinks Fives could do with a good solid punch in the jaw), so he intends to try to ignore his guilt and just enjoy the feast.

~~~

_ Neither am I,  _ Ahsoka tells him quietly, a bit subdued,  _ but it’s--I want today to be a  _ **_good_ ** _ day, Rex. And there’s  _ **_dancing._ ** She  _ loves _ dancing.

_ ‘Dancing’ and a ‘good day’ don’t belong in the same sentence, _ Rex grumbles, but she can tell he’s (mostly) teasing, so she sticks her tongue out at him.  _ Oh, very mature. _

She smiles, grabs his hand and tugs him out of the room behind her. “Anakin said we have five minutes before the transport leaves--and that was almost two minutes ago. I think. He’ll leave without us if we’re not there.”

“No he wouldn’t,” Rex says, but he speeds his steps anyway.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are wearing formal Jedi robes, having done away with the plastoid quasi-armor they both wear most of the time--Obi-Wan in the typical white, Anakin in his preferred black.  _ (It hides stains better, Snips, _ he’d told her the one time she’d asked.) Padmè’s elegant as always in a stunning yellow-gold dress with a loose, flowy skirt. Her hair is down in its natural curls.

Ahsoka’s not sure she’s ever seen anyone more  _ beautiful. _

Anakin seems to share that opinion, from the way his eyes linger on his wife; he’s obvious enough about his staring it’s a wonder the Council has yet to catch on to the relationship between them. “You look nice, Snips,” he says, although he doesn’t look away from Padmè.

“You aren’t even  _ looking _ at me, Skyguy,” Ahsoka says, rolling her eyes a little. (She’s pretty sure she catches Obi-Wan hiding a grin in his beard.)

“How does she look, Rex?” Anakin asks, still not even looking at them.

Rex stumbles over his words (his cheeks are flushed when she turns to look at him, and he’s surprisingly cute when he’s embarrassed). “Um, good, sir?”

“See, Snips? You look nice.”

~~~

The flight to Kiros is mostly uneventful; Rex spends most of it avoiding looking at Anakin because his General keeps  _ smirking _ at him. Ahsoka won’t stop thinking he’s  _ cute _ \- what the kriff - and General Kenobi sits aloof to it all, like he has absolutely no idea that Anakin is still staring adoringly at Padmè and that Rex blushes every time he looks at Ahsoka. There’s no kriffing way Kenobi  _ hasn’t  _ noticed, he’s too sharp for that.

Rex finds he doesn't really care.

As they drop out of hyperspace above Kiros though, Rex can’t help the anxious tightness in his stomach, and he reaches out for Ahsoka’s thoughts, finds she’s nervous too. There’s comfort in the closeness, as always, and he smoothes out his coat, otherwise refrains from fidgeting.

He's a  _ clone _ , not a diplomat or even a normal citizen. He knows how most neutral systems feel about the clone army, and even if the Togrutan colonists don't see him that way, the fact remains that clones just don't  _ do _ things like this. They're not meant to. He's so far out of his depth and he's afraid he's going to mess something up or offend someone or just end up standing awkwardly at parade rest in a corner the whole time.

Never mind the fact that these people were all slaves with them, have all seen him at his lowest.

~~~

Ahsoka fidgets with the material of her skirt, tries to breathe deep and settle the anxiety in her stomach; beside her, Rex is doing the same.

She wishes she could reach out to him, could spend a few moments wrapped in his arms, where she’s  _ safe, _ but with Master Obi-Wan here she can’t.

(Even  _ if _ the Jedi Master is  _ obviously _ ignoring Anakin and Padmè practically undressing each other with their eyes beside him.)

Instead, she contents herself with slipping her hand into his and squeezing gently, reaching for his mind and his love, letting the warmth of it soothe her. He feels familiar, comfortable, feels safe and secure, and gradually the nervousness fades as the transport ship enters atmo, makes to land. When the door hisses open, two Togrutan people are waiting for them, both familiar to Ahsoka--the first is Governor Roshti, the second a slender woman with light orange skin and violet markings on her headtails. 

Ahsri.

Ahsri’s eyes land immediately on Ahsoka and Rex, and she smiles, says, “It’s good to see the two of you healthy.”

~~~

Thank the little gods for a small welcoming committee and Ahsri’s familiar face. Rex inclines his head, smiles at her. “You too.” She looks taller, stronger, more dignified. She wears long, soft robes but Rex can still see scars marking her forearms and he feels a certain sense of  _ solemnity, _ suddenly - but not sadness.

Because Ahsri is smiling at them, and Governor Roshti spreads his hands wide, also smiling.

“Welcome, Jedi, Senator, Captain. We are all so honored to have you with us for this celebration of our rebuilding.”

“The honor is all ours,” General Kenobi says. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“It is thanks to you we are even here again,” the governor says. “Would you like to see what we've accomplished?”

“Of course,” Padmè says, taking Anakin’s elbow. Rex wishes he could have even that kind of contact with Ahsoka, but instead he falls into his accustomed place behind her, at her shoulder. Even from here, on the barren airfield, he can see that the colony is a riot of color and the people are moving in flurried activity between the buildings. It's all so much more  _ alive _ than it had been when this whole mission began.

~~~

The colony looks  _ right, _ now; before, when they’d been here, the stillness had been so wrong Ahsoka hadn’t even been able to truly appreciate the beauty and color of it all. Now, with the place practically  _ buzzing _ with Force-signatures, with eager energy, she thinks she’s never seen a place so naturally beautiful. 

Governor Roshti leads them through the outskirts of the colony, towards the square in the center, quietly pointing out revisions and additions and places where the rebuilding is still in progress. Ahsri walks not far behind him, though she doesn’t speak; Ahsoka has the sense she’s a naturally quiet woman, which makes her words something precious, to be treasured.

Nearly every Togruta they pass has scars visible, on their necks and arms and legs, some on their backs, if their clothing reveals them. Ahsoka notices a few with distinctive scars on their headtails--victims of the same cruel torment as she was--but even the most scarred of them is smiling, today.

The square is decorated with bright banners, tables set out around the edges for the feast, leaving a large open area around a gleaming fountain in the center of the square. There’s a small stage where she guesses a band will be, later, during the dancing.

Somehow, despite the fact that she can still clearly see where the bombs had been (can still remember the furious, desperate rush to disarm them all), Ahsoka thinks the colony has only  _ grown _ from the tragedy it’d endured, and she can feel her spirits start to lift, a lightness entering her steps.

Today, here, she feels at  _ peace. _

~~~

Rex thinks, as he sits at the table waiting to eat, that he understands these colonists’ need to make everything beautiful. He's used to durasteel and hard bunks, and paint is for distinguishing yourself from your brothers, but there's something that feels joyful and right about the splashes of color on the sides of buildings, the carved faces and patterns in the wooden frames, and the mosaic pattern of the town square. It doesn't have any use, but he's drawn to it all nonetheless.

Some of the colonists finally finish setting out dishes of food, then sit down, and Governor Roshti stands. Rex folds his hands in his lap, focuses on the governor although part of him definitely just wants to eat.

“Before we begin this celebration, I want to remember those who don't celebrate with us.” Rex tightens his hands together, eases his breaths slower. The governor lifts a delicate-looking glass. “To the family we had to leave behind. May they see our celebration and join in it with us.”

Rex reaches for his own cup, a more simple wooden one, and lifts it as everyone else does. The Togrutans are murmuring a response, in unison, and he doesn't know what it means but he offers his own. “ _ Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, _ ” he says softly, and Ahsoka glances over at him.

The governor sits back down, and everything is very quiet for a moment. Then he smiles and waves a hand. “Enjoy,” he says, and Rex relaxes a little as a low hum of conversation breaks out over the square.

~~~

Ahsoka lifts her glass along with the rest of the square, and she doesn’t know the proper response, so under her breath she murmurs, “May the Force be with you,” senses Anakin and Obi-Wan echoing the sentiment.

The rippling sound of Mando’a catches her attention, and she glances over at Rex, who’s saying something she can’t translate. She’s curious, but she makes herself wait until after the governor breaks the moment of silence before she asks.  _ What does that mean? _

_ I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal,  _ Rex answers, and the words have the cadence of ritual to them, a rhythm of sorts. (She remembers  _ there is no death, there is the Force, _ finds herself thinking there’s almost a parallel, there.)

_ I like that, _ she thinks, takes a moment to commit the words to memory before starting to eat.

The feast lasts for a while, the sky darkening as dusk sets in; after a while, tiny lights strung across the square start to glow, bathing the empty space in the center in a gentle, silvery light. It’s only a few minutes after that the musicians file onto the stage set up, striking up a tune, and Ahsoka watches almost longingly as the colonists start making their way out into the square, laughing and spinning to the beat of the music. 

Anakin is in quiet conversation with Governor Roshti, a serious look on his face; Padmè apparently doesn’t feel like waiting for him, because she turns to Ahsoka with a charming smile on her face. “Come on, Ahsoka. I  _ love _ to dance, don’t you?”

Ahsoka finds herself grinning. “It’s not something Jedi are  _ encouraged _ to do all that much,” she admits, and her smile widens at the mischief on Padmè’s face.

“Well, the only Jedi I see right now aren’t going to stop us,” she says in a conspiratorial whisper, offering her hand. “Although Ani will  _ hopefully _ stop talking and join us soon.”

Ahsoka can’t resist the pull of the music any longer, taking Padmè’s hand and letting the Senator tug her out into the center of the whirling, twirling Togrutans. The dance isn’t anything scripted, just free-moving to the beat, and Ahsoka throws her head back and laughs, spinning with her arms spread.

This feels like freedom.

~~~

Ahsoka looks beautiful, wild, abandoned,  _ happy _ . Something in Rex’s chest aches as he watches her dance, and he doesn't want to peel his eyes away from her, ever.

“Are you going to dance, Rex?”

He blinks and turns; it's Governor Roshti, his hands clasped comfortably behind his back. Rex fumbles for a good answer, hoping it's not  _ bad _ he isn't dancing. “Are  _ you? _ ” he says.

Anakin and  _ General Kenobi _ have leapt into the dance, looking perhaps a little foolish in their Jedi robes, but Rex finds himself following them with his eyes, because they too look happy, carefree, and it's a  _ rare _ sight.

“I'm old, Rex, this dance is a little much for me,” the governor says with a serene smile. “You don't have that excuse.”

“If you don't mind, sir, I'd rather not,” Rex says, shrugging awkwardly.

“Of course I don't mind. I just thought perhaps you could use some encouragement.” Roshti pats him lightly on the back and moves on, and Rex’s eyes seek out Ahsoka again. She's laughing and whirling, eyes alight, and Rex takes an involuntary step forward. Without meaning to, he's projecting: love and wonder.

Does the intoxicating warmth in his blood come from her or something else, something wild in the air? His heartbeat pounds to the rhythm of the music and there's something in him that's drawn to the leaping and passion and togetherness of that dance.

He can see how all the Togrutans have the same scars he does, from lashes and collars and cuffs. And here they are, dancing.

But even if the wildness has seeped into his bones and there's a fierce joy in his chest and Ahsoka dancing is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, he's still a soldier, and he doesn't dance, has no idea how. So he crosses his arms and lets himself grin and contents himself with watching.

~~~

Anakin is happy.

His family surrounds him, tonight--his beautiful wife in his arms, his Master out  _ actually dancing, _ his Padawan smiling brighter than the suns of Tatooine. There’s food and music and some sort of spicy alcohol that sends warmth rushing through his veins, and for just one night he’s not the Hero With No Fear, he’s not the Chosen One, he’s not  _ General Skywalker, _ Jedi Knight.

Tonight, he’s just  _ Anakin. _

Padmè is  _ stunning _ in the golden dress he remembers from their picnic on Naboo, her hair done much the same way as it had been that day. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off her. But, of course, it’s his beautiful, brilliant wife who notices the one thing wrong with the entire dance, and she’s quick to point it out to him.

“Ani, Rex isn’t dancing.”

Anakin drags his eyes off her breathless, laughing face and sees Rex standing, arms crossed, off to one side, a little smile on his face. He’s entirely focused on Ahsoka, but he’s just…  _ standing _ there, even though Anakin can  _ tell _ his Captain wants to go to her.

Well, that won’t do at all. “Good eye, love,” he says, bends to kiss her. “I’ll go take care of that.” He leaves Padmè in the dance, makes his way over to Rex. “You aren’t dancing?”

Rex shrugs, doesn’t look away from Ahsoka except for a quick glance over at Anakin as he approaches. “I don’t dance.”

That’s a  _ terrible _ excuse, Anakin decides. “Come on,  _ vod, _ you’ve been staring at Snips all night.  _ Do something _ about it,” and he grabs Rex’s arm and unceremoniously hauls him into the dancing.  _ Snips! _

_ What, Skyguy? _ comes the immediate response.

_ I’ve got your  _ cyare _ here. Come get him. _

In a moment, Ahsoka makes her way over, her eyes alight and headtails communicating her utter joy. “Rex!” She beams at him, reaches out and takes his hand. “Come on, dance with me.”

“I don’t know how--” he starts, but she cuts him off as she drags him away.

“I’ll show you,” and Anakin knows he’s done the right thing by the soft  _ pleasure _ in her eyes.

He grins, reaches for Padmè, enveloping her in all the love he feels for her, in his happiness.

Yes, tonight, Anakin is  _ happy. _

~~~

Rex feels like a complete  _ fool _ so he presses in close to Ahsoka's mind, clings to her joy. There's a mad energy to the dance that something in him  _ understands _ and that makes it easier, although he wishes he had had more to drink.

_ Took you long enough! _ she says, tugging him into a circle of dancers, letting go of his hand so he can follow her lead and clap to the rhythm.

_ I'm not happy about this, _ he grumbles, but he knows she doesn't believe him.

The very air thrums with  _ life _ and he finds himself laughing, even though he's stumbling over his feet and he doesn't know what to do with his hands. People he doesn't know are linking arms with him, smiling at him, and at one point  _ Obi-Wan  _ grabs his arm and spins with him and if Rex didn't know better he'd say the General is drunk.

But Obi-Wan is no more drunk than he is. It's the glow of the silver lights and the intoxicating burn of  _ freedom _ and the thrumming music. And for Rex it's Ahsoka’s smile and laughter and beauty and he  _ understands _ , finally, why she loves dancing.

Without thinking about it he weaves through the wildness and grabs her hand again, pulls her close.  _ Cyar’ika ner’jetii _ , he thinks, not quite meaning to slip into Mando’a.

~~~

Ahsoka smiles, understanding the emotion behind the words even if she doesn’t know the words themselves. She can  _ feel _ his love, his joy at being here, at being with  _ her, _ and she projects everything she’s feeling back at him. 

The music slows, the dancing becoming calmer, people beginning to separate into pairs, and Ahsoka rests her head on his chest and slips her arms around his waist, for once not caring who might see, who might  _ know. _ There are, she thinks, some things more important than the Jedi.  _ Someday, you should teach me Mando’a, _ she tells Rex, smiling as he slips his arms around her, holding her close.

_ I can do that, _ Rex agrees, and there’s something warm and soft about the way his mind feels against hers.

She closes her eyes, lets the music and Rex’s love fill all the cracks in her heart and soul, and she thinks (projecting, though she doesn’t really mean to) that  _ this _ is where she belongs.

~~~

Obi-Wan pulls back from the dance as it slows into something more intimate. He goes back to the tables and takes a long drink, looks over the crowd with the Light humming warm against his skin. The Force tells him this is  _ good _ , this is  _ right _ .

Anakin is being incredibly obvious with Padmè tonight, and if they were anywhere else for any other reason, Obi would try to pull him away to get him to  _ focus _ . But not tonight. Tonight is nothing but life and energy and warmth, and Obi-Wan has needed this almost as much as his Padawan has.

Rex and Ahsoka are dancing, slowly, and that wouldn’t be so strange except they’re clearly lost in each other’s eyes and there’s a hum of  _ connection _ between them that surprises Obi. When Ahsoka rests her head against Rex’s chest the Force resonates with it and Obi raises his eyebrows, knowing he should disapprove, not being able to.

It’s not a night for that.

He glances over at Anakin again and finds that his best friend has tugged Padmè a little away from the rest of the dancers, has slipped his hands into her hair and is kissing her, and Obi can feel his joy through their training bond.  _ Ah, Anakin _ . Obi pointedly looks away, wondering why they can’t at least  _ try _ to keep him from seeing, and happens to meet Ahsoka’s eyes. The padawan glances from him to Anakin and Padmè, then back, and Obi-Wan gives her a slow, lazy smile and lifts his cup of liquor in salute.

He won’t say anything to either of the couples, won’t spoil their closeness and peace.

It’s not a night for that.

Force knows none of them have been quite right since Zygerria - he still feels  _ trapped _ these days if he’s in too small a space, his neck still has scars, and he still feels sometimes like someone is  _ watching _ him, and he’s the least affected out of all of them.

Tonight he makes an effort to forget he’s a Jedi Master, to forget the Council and the new mission they want to give him, to let himself just  _ be _ . He can feel the Force with so much more  _ certainty  _ tonight than he has of late.

Anakin and Padmè are  _ still _ kissing and Obi sighs, rolls his eyes up toward the stars so he can also ignore Rex running his fingers over Ahsoka’s cheek.

_ Force give me patience with these idiots,  _ he thinks, privately determining he really has to actually  _ talk _ to Anakin about this one of these days. Pretending obliviousness is starting to make him look very  _ stupid _ , he’s sure.

~~~

Ahsoka can’t help but smirk a little when Obi-Wan (tonight is not a night for titles like ‘Master’) salutes her with his glass and deliberately looks away. As if she needed anymore confirmation that the Jedi Master is pretending obliviousness.

To her surprise, though, it  _ helps, _ knowing that no one here is going to condemn her for the one thing that kept her alive in the mines, that’s allowed her to heal like she has. She smiles, presses closer to Rex’s chest.

Anakin is more than a little drunk, a combination of the liquor and his wife’s presence, and he’s projecting love and joy so strongly she’s pretty sure even non-sensitives can pick up on it. His exuberant peace settles in her bones, gives her a strange new kind of courage, and she slips into Rex’s mind in search of what she’s looking for.

She knows he can feel her there, but he’s not worried, instead exuding a mildly curious affection for her, and she basks in the feeling until she finds the words. She can see their basic shape and pronunciation, but she knows the accent will elude her--she just hopes she says them close enough to correct for the meaning to get across.  _ “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” _ she says--hopes hearing the Mando’a words feels  _ special _ to him, since she doesn’t know what else to do. There’s another word floating on the surface of his mind, one she’s heard him use only a couple times before, and she smiles, adds it to the end of her sentence.  _ “Cyare.” _

Rex just  _ stares _ at her for a moment, so much awe and wonder and sheer breathless  _ love _ in his eyes and filling his thoughts she feels like she’s drowning in it--but it’s a  _ good  _ kind of drowning, leaving her so full of  _ joy _ there’s no room for any of the memories or the Darkness.  _ “Ner’jetii,” _ he breathes out, his voice low, almost a growl, but  _ soft _ at the same time.  _ My Jedi, _ he means, and maybe it’s just her imagination but the words sound more  _ possessive _ than usual. He leans down, kisses her fiercely (she feels a fleeting moment of pity for Obi-Wan).

When Rex finally pulls back, Ahsoka is breathless, but there’s a strange kind of eager  _ anticipation _ quivering through her muscles, and she could  _ swear _ sparks leap between her and Rex wherever they touch. And maybe it’s the newfound sense of joyful freedom, maybe it’s the wildness of the music and the dancing, maybe it’s the way Obi-Wan has silently promised to turn a blind eye to all this, maybe it’s the way Rex’s eyes almost  _ glow _ in the liquid silver light (she thinks that last one probably has more to do with it than the rest)--maybe, probably, it’s a combination of all of it. Whatever the reasons are, there’s a  _ recklessness _ in her tonight, pulsing through her blood in time to the too-fast beat of her heart. 

So she looks up at him, boldly, and says, “Prove it.”

There’s a pause, where Rex looks down into her eyes and searches her mind, as though to make sure she’s certain, and then a slow smile spreads across his face and he says, lowly, “Yes, sir.”

(She starts laughing when he scoops her into his arms and very literally  _ carries _ her off the dance floor, much to the other Togrutans’ amusement; she has just enough presence of mind left to remember to apologize to Obi-Wan later.)

…

Padmè can’t remember the last time she was this  _ relaxed, _ this joyful.

She’s with her husband at a party on a beautiful, peaceful world; she’d given up on secrecy after about her third cup of whatever the liquor they’re serving is, allowed Ani to claim her exclusively on the dance floor. Another cup, and he’d been  _ smirking _ at her, and she’d just  _ had _ to grab his hand and drag him to a corner so she could kiss that damned infuriating smirk off his lips.

Even though it’s been over a month, it’s still a bit of a novelty to her to have her husband’s  _ mind _ wrapped around hers, to be able to feel him so deeply, so intimately like this--and yet it almost feels like they’ve been bonded for  _ forever. _ She can hardly remember what it’s like to not be able to feel Ani, and she never  _ ever _ wants to go back. It’s almost like she was blind, before, and now her eyes have been opened.

_ I love you, Ani, _ she tells him, pulling back from his lips and resting her forehead against his.  _ So, so much. _

_ I love you too, Padmè, _ and she can feel him hesitate, like he’s debating. 

_ What is it, love? _

He hums a little.  _ Have you ever thought about--a baby? _

Padmè stills. Ever since she was a little girl, she’s wanted to be a mother; she can’t deny the idea of having a baby with Anakin sends a thrill of  _ longing _ through her, sharp and painful. But he’s a  _ Jedi, _ and a baby would make it impossible for them to keep their relationship secret (part of her  _ welcomes _ that, wants an excuse to go public). Besides all that, the galaxy is in such a state of turmoil right now--she wants her baby,  _ their baby, _ to be born into peace. She doesn’t want their child to know war.  _ It’s not the right time, _ she says, tentative, trying to put her thoughts in some semblance of order.

_ But after the war, maybe? _ and he sounds so  _ eager _ she can’t help but pull back and smile at him.

_ Absolutely. _ Anakin laughs, spins her around in a hug, keeping his arms around her when he does set her back down, and she meets his eyes, lets her smile deepen, shift into something more mischievous. “In fact,” she says, and her voice is low, almost a purr, “why don’t we do some practicing?”

(They don’t talk much for the rest of the night.)

~~~

Captain Rex is so happy these days he can almost forget there was a time when he thought he wouldn’t be again. He has his Jedi, no longer fears losing her, and he hasn't truly felt alone in  _ months _ .

Today he and Ahsoka have stolen a few moments after a mission to just be  _ close _ , sitting in the mess, and Rex has quietly ordered his men to stay clear.

“You didn't freeze once,” she says, curling her hands around a cup of caf. She's smiling, softly proud, and Rex snorts.

Maybe it shouldn't feel like such a great achievement, but he's been working so hard to be able to overcome the fear and he's finally begun to see progress. Ahsoka had worked it out faster than he had, and that helps when they’re in battle together - she’s always able to pull him back from the edge of panic.

“I guess I didn't,” he says softly. He presses against her thoughts, feels a comfortable ease there. “You fought well.”

“Of course I did.” Ahsoka knocks her shoulder against his, kisses his cheek. She has grown so much more comfortable fighting and using the Force again over the past few months; Rex has never totally understood her difficulty with the Force but he does understand it's gotten better.

He rolls his eyes. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me, Captain,” Ahsoka teases, kicking his ankle.

“I do.”

There are no more fears that he doesn't deserve her, and he no longer feels like a coward. He doesn't know when that changed, only that now he no longer feels a sick twist of guilt when he sees Ahsoka’s scars, and that when she curls up soft in his mind he doesn't pull up his shields.

It's only the constancy of her love and affection, he thinks, that has made that possible. There had never been a day when she hated him for Kadavo (anymore than he'd ever hated her), and eventually he had learned to accept that.

“ _ Cyare _ ,” he says quietly, looking over at her.

“What is it, Rex?” He feels she's concerned.

“We're okay,” he says, feeling a thrill of wonder. “I'm okay. I feel like… I feel like myself again, Soka.”

He feels a wave of affection from her. “Me too,” she says. “But everything's different.”

“I have you now,” he says, cupping her chin in his hand and kissing the corner of her mouth. And he feels a little foolish, but he says, “I couldn't be here without you.”

She projects a feeling that's essentially an agreement, an idea of  _ I needed you too _ .

There had been a time when he thought none of this would get better, when he thought he'd lost something of himself for good. And maybe he had, a little, but the mistake was thinking that nothing would fill the empty space, like it would have been a mistake thinking his wounds would never heal. They did, and if he's left with scars, he's long left the pain behind.

There is more than enough love, these days, to soothe the jagged edges where he's broken.

He knows what he is, knows what he will fight for (his Jedi, his men), and it's enough.

They're enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum: I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. ((I love this one.))
> 
> Vod: brother/sister
> 
> Cyare: beloved
> 
> Cyar'ika ner'jetii: My darling Jedi ((as long as I got the grammar right))
> 
> Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum: I love you; literally "I keep you in my heart forever"


End file.
